


The Scouring

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence, Gen, Transcendence AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4394015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been nearly forty years since The Transcendence changed the world. In Gravity Falls, things have mostly settled down, and life is good.</p><p>Quite a few people outside Gravity Falls still aren't happy, though. And there's a certain exile from Gravity Falls more than willing to help them achieve their goal...</p><p>Namely, the undoing of The Transcendence - and their plans are finally ready to be put into motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gideon Gleeful, former child psychic and very nearly the ruler of Gravity Falls, Oregon, stormed down the sidewalk in yet another city.

 

The Transcendence had been a blessing for inmates of the Gravity Falls Maximum Security Prison. The rush of magic, the physical quakes being at ground zero had caused had disrupted everything into a mass of chaos and panic even to the point of leveling the walls of the prison, making it almost laughably easy for Gideon and his band of followers to escape in the confusion...even if they'd had to flee Gravity Falls itself.

 

It was one of the rare times Gideon cursed his fame and charm. Everyone in Gravity Falls knew Lil' Gideon, and he hadn't changed enough in the short time he'd been in jail that they wouldn't still know him, so he still couldn't return to the center of his fame and reclaim his proper place. Not yet, not while they'd still been turned against him by the Pines family rather than obeying him like they were meant to, when they'd just lock him back up rather than listen to him and obey his commands.

 

_He_ was supposed to be the most magical person or creature of Gravity Falls, spreading his rule to the surrounding areas piece by piece, using his charm and spells to rule the mouth-breathing fools with an iron fist, and he'd been so close to having Gravity Falls firmly under his foot, but then... _Dipper._

 

Dipper Pines kept the first and third Journals from him, keeping him away from the secrets to ultimate power. Dipper Pines kept Mabel, his Queen, away from him.  _Dipper Pines_ caused The Transcendence, making what magic Gideon had less than nothing compared to what was in the world today. 

 

So now Gideon had to get by with what he could of his personality and personal charms, scraping up magic as he went, followed by the small band of devoted followers he was gathering day by day that was a fraction of the size of the following he should have had, and it was all because of  _Dipper Pines_ and  _The **Damn** Transcendence._

 

Dipper was supposed to have died during The Transcendence, and that would've served him right, but Gideon's contact in Gravity Falls (who he hadn't heard from in years and something needed done about that, _no one_ stopped working for Gideon) had said Mabel had moved back to Gravity Falls and talked to the air while using Dipper's name all the time, and the rest of the town seemed to agree that Dipper was still with them, somehow or other. Unseen, unheard, unfelt, but somehow still there.

 

So somehow Dipper got away from it all scot-free, while Gideon had to stay on the run with his followers. It just. Wasn't. Fair!

 

At least prison (and all his subsequent incarcerations, along with a good dose of vanity) had improved on his already superior looks and his ability to captivate an audience, along with giving him his most devoted followers, his core elite of bodyguards, each of whom was more than willing to get their hands dirty for their precious Lil' Gideon, even if he wasn't so lil' anymore. They didn't come close to evening the scales, but they were weapons Gideon was skilled in exploiting and quite willing to use.

 

And they were useful weapons to go with his honed skills. Already his following had tripled, despite having to start from scratch and keep on the move, though the numbers were still pathetic compared to the hundreds who'd followed him with unquestioning awe and adoration in Gravity Falls.

 

Curse it all, Gravity Falls had been the perfect place to begin his conquest and gain all that was meant to be his, and he'd never found anyplace even close to it since he'd been driven out, and it was all because of those damn Pines!

 

Still scowling, Gideon slipped into the run down theater he'd been looking for. One of his followers said there was someone here preaching things similar to the preaching Gideon himself liked to use to convince his followers to come to him, and Gideon wanted a look at the competition.

 

Maybe he could even get a few new followers for himself out of this, if he played his cards right, or at least more fools to give them money and support for their cause (namely, Gideon and his lifestyle) if they weren't passionate enough to be convinced to devote themselves to him. After all, no one worked a crowd like lil' ol' him.

 

 

Two hours later found Gideon sitting in the tiny, badly lit back room of the theater, drinking surprisingly good wine with the show's preacher, Anthony Lampros.

 

Somehow, Anthony had picked him out of the crowd, recognized Gideon as a kindred spirit, and then gotten into Gideon's good books by recognizing him as Gideon Gleeful, former child psychic.

 

One of the few things Gideon didn't lie to himself about was his fame and lack thereof outside Gravity Falls. He'd left to keep from being recognized, when all was said and done. So for Anthony to have recognized him...

 

Well, it was a stroke to the lil' ol' ego, there, was what it was. This was someone who was preaching about the Transcendence, and for once he'd obviously done his homework about the place it had all begun, unlike most of the fools he'd met over the years.

 

Their ignorance was almost funny, at times. Even when they were raving fanatics who'd made up their information from whole cloth.

 

(Those were the most fun to rile up and steal their followers from when they'd been broken and taken away, to rot in prison or eaten by the things they'd been goaded into calling up they'd no chance of controlling and been too blind to understand the dangers to themselves until too late.)

 

In their admittedly short acquaintanceship, Anthony had already given the impression of someone who'd gained everything thanks to the Transcendence, and in a way, that was true.

 

After all, he'd based his entire following and career around hating the Transcendence and searching to find a way to reverse everything it had done.

 

Gideon wasn't about to point out the particular hypocrisy in wanting rid of the thing that gave you power, though. After all, he'd been cursing the Transcendence not even two hours ago. Finding magic may have been easier now, but what did that matter when the sheep could get their hands on it too?

 

What did whatever benefits he could pull from the Transcendence matter when Dipper and Mabel Pines were walking around free and clear despite everything they'd done?

 

The splintery walls of the backstage room they were drinking in were covered in drawings and papers, almost all of them dealing with magic, from summoning circles to the creatures that had emerged after the Transcendence to cleansing herbs and spell work, banishment and exorcism. For someone who hated magic so fervently, Anthony certainly was knowledgeable about every aspect of it, from light to dark.

 

Anthony noticed Gideon's wandering eye and smirked. “You're thinking how strange it is I have this much information on magic, yes?” he said. “When I just spent the last two hours preaching against it?”

 

Gideon shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. He smiled, a hard little curve of lips that gave away nothing. “We all have our little hypocrisies, bless ya heart,” he murmured, playing his cards close. He'd met too many little men over these past few years to believe this one was going to be any different – not just yet, at least. A little smarter, maybe, but otherwise no different.

 

“And that's the problem!” Anthony exclaimed, smacking his hand flat against the table and the papers scattered across it before gesturing to the papers pinned to the walls around them. “No matter what we do, it's everywhere now, and no one can see what it's doing to them, or care when we try to show them. They preach against it, and then use it behind their follower's backs! We've searched and searched, but all our searches have come to the same conclusion – no amount of prayer is going to be enough to undo what demons have done. To rid ourselves of magic and the supernatural, to undo what the Transcendence has done, we have to embrace the hypocrisy and use magic!”

 

Gideon only just avoided rolling his eyes.

 

“You doubt our sincerity, I can tell,” Anthony said, tugging over a piece of paper. “And think I'm just blowing hot air. But we have a plan.”

 

“Well, if ya'll have a plan, then I'll wish ya'll luck with that,” Gideon said, starting to rise.

 

“It comes with revenge on the Pines family for causing the Transcendence,” Anthony added, looking up at Gideon with hooded eyes, “And should there be other considerations...”

 

Gideon froze. His eyes slowly rose to meet Anthony's, and the man grinned.

 

“They caused the Transcendence,” he said, “and they're the reason you had to leave Gravity Falls, am I correct?”

 

Gideon scowled, and Anthony spoke faster. “We need more people, and we need to take everything to Gravity Falls if we want a chance at success. That's where the Transcendence happened, and that's the only place where we can reverse it. But we need someone who knows the town, or we'll be stopped before we can begin. The fools actually welcome the Transcendence and all the sinful things that came with it, they'll try and protect them. And the Pines family is at the forefront of that.”

 

Gideon still waited, half out of his chair, and Anthony leaned over the table eagerly. “We both want the Transcendence undone, don't we? Since it's too wild, to unpredictable to benefit – ahem – mankind,” he said, and both understood just what he meant by 'mankind', “and those who've gone so far as to ally themselves with it should be punished, shouldn't they?”

 

Sitting back down, Gideon leaned over the table, matching Anthony's slow grin. “Ah'm listening,” he said.

 

 

Five years and three months later, Gideon stood on the hill outside Gravity Falls, staring down into the valley that cupped his hometown.

 

From up here, it looked the same as it had before he'd left, before the Transcendence had happened, as if it was unchanged and unchangeable.

 

Well, not for much longer, Gideon thought gleefully.

 

Behind him, the combined forced of his followers and The Grand Anti Transcendence Alliance, nearly a thousand strong, waited for his word.

 

A third of their members were perched on electric and telephone poles or up trees, cutters ready and waiting, while the rest spread around the edge of the valley.

 

Anthony lead the larger group, waiting for Gideon's group to make their move before beginning their own. If they did this right, then it would all be in place before anyone in town had a single idea that anything was wrong.

 

Amazing, really, how despite the town now having internet and more, they still depended on a few key lines to communicate with the world outside their valley.

 

The people of Gravity Falls had always been fools.

 

This was the time to act. Magic was tricky, as evil things often were, but their calculations said plainly that not only did they need to do this at the place where it all happened, but at roughly the same time as it had happened. The Transcendence had happened in late summer, and so they were poised outside the town in late summer, ready to begin.

 

He held up the cell phone, pulling up Anthony. “You ready on your end?” he asked.

 

He could almost see Anthony nod. “And on yours?”

 

“We're starting... _now_ ,” Gideon said, and the snap of the cutters echoed as telephone and internet lines alike were cut, falling through the trees to land with thuds onto the dirt, sounding remarkably like things dying in mid air and falling limply to the ground.

 

Around the perimeter of the town The Grand Anti-Transcendence Alliance chanted in unison, raising their arms, and a barrier sprung into being, slowly stretching towards the sky.

 

It shimmered with an unhealthy shine, like an oil slick over water, stretching over their heads and under their feet until all of Gravity Falls and the surrounding land was closed within the bubble.

 

And now nothing magical would be able to escape Gravity Falls and the retribution that they deserved or be able to enter and aid their devilish brethren.

 

Gideon grinned as he got in the car that would take them down into town, mind already buzzing with what was to come.

 

Gravity Falls had earned everything that was about to come down on them, and it was long, long overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off [this prompt](http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/103854380379/i-propose-a-second-important-point-in-the-timeline) in the Transcendence AU, and promised for months, this fic is finally (95%) complete. 
> 
> Took me long enough, I suppose.
> 
> I've been going back and forth on parts of this the whole time, debating just about every things that happens, and editing as more things changed both in canon and fanon. 
> 
> Here we go.


	2. Chapter 2

In her attic bedroom of the Stanley Pines Memorial Library (which was bigger on the inside than the outside, thanks to her Uncle, and wasn't that a fun party trick), Willow Pines clicked away from her email (nothing new yet from G-great uncle Ford, who was off researching The Sight and its different manifestations, both physical and magical) to follow the link to her uncle's Wikipedia page, ready to see what ridiculous new thing the editors had to say about her uncle and parents, or what silly theories they were batting around about her and her siblings now.

 

Instead of the Wiki page on Alcor the Dreambender, though, she got a grey page with the words “Page Cannot Be Displayed” across it, and she glanced down at the icon at the bottom right of her screen automatically, blinking in surprise and dismay before groaning at the red x over it, taunting her that the internet was down.

 

The Library was on its own network and router, thanks to being just far enough from town to need it and with high enough need for their own connection, but since firebirds liked to perch on the wires and not all of them had been magic-proofed by Uncle Dipper yet...not that it worked well when the birds would just pick at the lines until they fell but still.

 

She headed downstairs, ready to check the router and eye the lines before she had to call someone about the internet. Maybe she'd get lucky this time, and it was just a brief moment of tech and magic not getting along, or something that could be fixed with a few mini Snickers once Uncle Dipper was home.

 

She poked her head into the kitchen when she passed it by, hearing her dad's voice from inside. He was looking at the phone in consternation, pressing on the hook. “Phones are out,” he said when she caught his eye. “Right in the middle of talking to your sister, too.”

 

“So much for calling about the internet,” Willow said, leaning against the doorway. “It's down too.”

 

Henry rolled his eyes and set the phone back down. “Well, with the way your mother drives, the three of them will be here soon anyway. They'd already gotten to the edge of town when the phone went out on us. Guess we'll just wait a bit and see about getting it fixed after they get home.”

 

A car pulled in behind the Library, near the door to the house proper, tires scraping on the gravel, and Henry looked towards the door with a frown. “That's...odd, they shouldn't be here _that_ soon...” he said as car doors slammed.

 

Seconds later the door burst open and figures dressed in black, ski masks covering their faces, poured into the Pines kitchen.

 

There was a sharp pain in Henry's upper arm, and he had enough time to see a dart in his upper arm and have the insult of being sedated like a wild animal register before it hit his bloodstream, the edges of his vision starting to blur.

 

Then they went for Willow, and the adrenaline was enough to fight back against whatever the hell was in that dart as Henry threw himself at the men attacking his daughter, too uncoordinated and dizzy to call on Dipper or turn into the Woodsman, the power flickering just out of his reach when he needed it.

 

It took ten of them to take him down, spells flying to hit both him and Willow, fighting to get to his daughter as she collapsed under six of her own attackers, and he dimly felt the rope wrapping around his arms and saw a figure in a blue suit striding into their kitchen as though they owned it as drug and magic took him under.

 

 

One of the members of Gideon's team came up to him, saluting. “Stanford was sleeping in his room, sir. He didn't go down easy, but he's been secured.”

 

“Did you drug him?” Gideon asked eagerly, finally turning his attention from the redheads being secured in the truck for transport into town. He needed to find out who those two were and what the hell they were doing in the Mystery Shack...now apparently the 'Stanley Pines Memorial Library', whoever the hell 'Stanley Pines' was. Gideon didn't care about that. But gracious, you leave town for a few years and everything changes, just enough to make things odd.

 

“We didn't dare, sir,” they replied, not noticing Gideon's wandering attention. “He's rather old, and since both you and Master Anthony demanded as little human blood shed as possible during the round up we feared it might interfere with whatever medications he may be on, plus who knows what it might do to someone that old.”

 

Gideon waved away their explanation impatiently. He didn't care why they hadn't drugged the old man, all he wanted to know was if someone around here was awake to answer his questions.

 

Not that Stanford had ever given Gideon answers before, willingly at least. It didn't matter, not now.

 

“Get him in the truck with the other two and hide a team here,” he demanded. “We need him and Mabel Pines, they're the dangerous ones in this town. We'll take these three into town and try to cut them off, but if we miss Mabel in town, she's got to come home sooner or later. Everyone else is sheep, they'll fall in line once we have all the Pines. Go see what the old man knows!”

 

 

In the Gravity Falls sheriff’s office, Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland were already locked into the station's lone cell, having been caught while making toys and a new blanket for their new naga grandbaby instead of paying attention to the town outside.

 

(Really, it was a wonder they hadn't retired yet. After this, they just might. Though with all the supernatural around, it was surprising they'd lasted this long, even if Dipper did take care of most of the 'ooky spooky stuff'. They just hadn't been quite ready to miss the bi-monthly 'we arrested Alcor!' antics. The kids had some good ideas for keeping up the tradition, at least.)

 

Anthony leaned back in the sheriff's chair, enjoying the moment as his team ransacked the office. All across Gravity Falls, he knew, similar scenes were taking place as the people were rounded up and brought to areas his people held secure, separated from the creatures they'd brought into their homes as 'friends' or 'family'.

 

As if they had the intelligence or morality to be equal to a human, let alone so close to one. It was laughable.

 

Despite the town being the epicenter of magic thanks to the damn Transcendence, most of the residents seemed too laid back to expect any kind of attack, be it magic or proper, non-cheating human ingenuity and muscle, just going about their lives with the magical creatures living among them as if they had a right to do so.

 

Fools. Magic was dangerous, they should be more ready than any to defend themselves against it, and here they were, accepting it and acting as though it were normal, something to be proud of and accepted.

 

Apart from a few pockets of resistance (the Corduroy family, primarily, as well as a few Pines family allies – apparently the Pines family's handyman and his family were surprisingly resilient, and his grandmother had a mean right hook none of them had seen coming, along with a hobo in the dump who his team claimed had had some kind of giant robot, of all things, which would have been nice to know about ahead of time. Though it was a surprise and disappointment to find Wendy Corduroy, the famed supernatural hunter, fighting to protect the magical scum instead of helping the Alliance), reports were pouring in of sector after sector of the town coming under their control, most too taken off guard to fight back against them.

 

There was a community center near the center of town, and per Anthony's orders any who resisted were being taken there to be bound in the gymnasium, where they were warding it with enough spells and deterrents supernatural creatures would either be unable to enter or have enough difficulty that the teams left guarding the humans would have plenty of warning, or be utterly blind to the people inside.

 

They needed the church next to the community center for phase two, so they may as well secure the area around it now. And maybe they could persuade a few residents to help them while they were at it. While he and Gideon were too busy for it right now, a few of their more devoted followers may be able to pull it off.

 

He picked up his phone as it went off, noting the name on it. “Did you take the Shack yet?” he asked as soon as it connected, not bothering with niceties.

 

“Got the Shack and Stanford secured, but the other Pines ain't here,” Gideon snapped back. “Got two redheads here, don't know who they are. The old man ain't talkin', claims he don't know when they'll be back. There's evidence of them doing magic all over the place but nothin' to say where they're at or when they'll be back. An' he won't say what happened to Dipper or where he is!”

 

“So we catch the sister and the brother shows up,” Anthony said. “You said it yourself, we don't know where or what Dipper Pines is now, or even if he's still alive at all, but if he is, he'll always come for his sister. If his Great Uncle won't talk, his sister might. We need to find them fast, either way, so get your team back into town. We haven't found any Pines in town and we need you to ID them for us.”

 

Anthony hung up after Gideon's strangled “ _Fine,_ ” musing again on the obsession Gideon had for the Pines family.

 

It was almost amusing, how Gideon blamed the Pines – especially the elusive, possibly deceased, male twin – for everything that had happened to him.

 

Then again, it was impressive how close a nine year old had come to ruling this town, would have done it if twins hadn't thwarted his plan (if he hadn't gone after them personally and drawn them in) back then...which was exactly why Anthony had done everything he could to talk Gideon into helping him now.

 

They almost had all they needed, now. Just a few more steps and they could start preparing to undo the insult that had been done to their world.

 

 

Mabel's hands clenched tighter on the wheel the farther through town they went, eyes scanning the streets. She let go just long enough to hit the door locks, hearing them click into place as they traveled slowly down Main Street.

 

It was the middle of the day. Gravity Falls should have been bustling, but the streets were empty, and something was obviously wrong.

 

She glanced at the passenger seat, where Acacia was already slipping on her brass knuckles, eye scanning the disturbingly bare streets much as her mother had.

 

In the backseat, there was shifting noises as Reina, Acacia's wife, unzipped the backpack on the backseat and pulled out the blackjack from the front pocket. She may not have as much experience as the rest of the Pines family, but one didn't marry into this branch and not get some practical lessons pretty quickly.

 

So when the line of people dressed and masked in black streamed out to block the road, none of them were particularly surprised.

 

Varying degrees of angry, worried, and irritated, yes. Surprised, not so much.

 

Though there was a great degree of confusion mixed in with the rest. Everyone knew what Gravity Falls was, what cult was crazy enough to try and take on this town this openly?

 

And...by appearances...was _winning_?

 

Mabel rolled the window down a half inch, enough to hear and be heard without getting out of the car.

 

Well, okay, she'd be muffled but they could just deal with that.

 

“Who are you and what do you want?” she called, not bothering to pretend at being innocent or nice. Her town was empty, something was wrong, and she wanted answers _now_.

 

Then a figure stepped out from behind the black covered ones blocking the road and Mabel's hand's tightened on the wheel involuntarily, fighting down the instant instinct to punch down on the gas and run his ass over.

 

“Mom? You're growling,” Acacia whispered, and Mabel huffed.

 

“I thought your demon uncle was supposed to be the scary one,” Reina commented from the backseat, only joking a little, as quiet as Acacia.

 

“He had to learn it somewhere,” Acacia said with a shrug. “Mom?”

 

“ _Gideon_ ,” her mom hissed, a level of hate in her tone neither woman in the car was used to hearing from the generally cheerful Mabel.

 

“Mabel! My sweet little marshmallow!” the man in the powder blue suit called, arms open wide as if he expected Mabel to leap from the car and go running to him.

 

“Ooooh, _that_ Gideon,” Acacia said, the last piece clicking into place. “I thought you said he was in jail?”

 

“Heard he escaped during all the chaos of the Transcendence,” Mabel said shortly. “Surprised we haven't seen him before now. What are you doing here, Gideon?” she called out the window.

 

“Aw, aren't ya happy to see me?” he called back.

 

“Knock it off, Gideon. I'm in a car and you're squishable!” Mabel yelled back.

 

Acacia rubbed her ear, muttering, “Wish you'd open the window the whole way, you're loud.”

 

Mabel just grinned and gunned the engine, not by much but enough to say she was serious. Gideon, showing more sense than Acacia had expected, backed away a few steps.

 

He scowled at the car as if Mabel had severely disappointed him before snapping a few words over his shoulder at the people still blocking the road.

 

“Hold on, girls,” Mabel ordered. “And get ready. This won't be pretty.” With that as all the warning she gave, she punched on the gas.

 

The car's tires squealed as it rocketed forward, and Gideon and his cronies scattered from the path of the speeding vehicle. A few, quicker to recover than the rest, shot at its tires and Mabel cursed as she felt two of them blow out.

 

The car began to weave dangerously across the road as Mabel fought to get just a little farther away before she lost control of it completely.

 

 

Gideon cursed again as the car sped away, one of the higher ranking members of his team already barking orders into their two way radio as several others aimed for the tires of Mabel's car.

 

It skidded as it rounded the corner. Gideon's team broke into a run, following the sound of crashing. Gideon followed after them, panting as he tried to catch up. He didn't _do_ running, curse it all! He was management!

 

Mabel and two women were out of the car when he made it around the corner, though the amount of his team laid out on the ground suggested they'd launched themselves from it rather than being dragged out.

 

The secondary team came pounding up the pavement, and sheer numbers finally overwhelmed the three women, though not without taking severe losses.

 

None of the women went down easily, even after being overwhelmed, and it was only the subduing and knockout spells that finally took them down for good, with over half the team knocked out or nursing injuries by the time it was all over.

 

 

With the humans of Gravity Falls knocked out or subdued and restrained, depending on the person involved and the danger they presented, the Alliance turned their attention to the forest.

 

The forest was, in its way, more dangerous than the town. Humans could be predicted, while the forest...no one really knew what all lay inside the forest.

 

They had to move faster than ever, lest the humans they'd rounded up try and break free, maybe even warn those inside the forest, the traitors to blood and species that they were. Anthony's idea, since Gideon wanted the inhabitants of Gravity Falls to have plenty of time to worry and fear what they were planning.

 

Under other circumstances, Anthony would have been very willing to grant Gideon his wish. As it was, though...there were rumors that Alcor the Dreambender was...fond...of Gravity Falls, or at least fond as a demon could be. Had possibly even claimed it as his territory.

 

Which meant they needed to get everything in place before the demon returned, so they would be ready for it, and for it to be angry that they had invaded its town.

 

This was going to take a lot of preparation.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know according to canon Stanford is actually Stanley, but Gideon doesn't know that here. Also, I don't know how the TAU mods are handling the naming of the memorial library with this new information, so I'm going with “The older twins let the town keep thinking of them with the 'wrong' names,” and leaving the name for now.
> 
> Finally, I'm going to do my best to update this on Tuesdays. Not a guarantee, but the attempt will be made.


	3. Chapter 3

The teams sent into the forest returned to town a few hours later victorious. The majority of the manotaurs were trapped in their caves, most of the gnomes in their colonies, others left hiding in their homes, the lake and forest themselves and anything too fast or too dangerous to trap denied the town by spells like the one trapping the town in its valley, and creatures could be barely made out flitting or skulking along the edges of the circle, testing its strength but too fast or strong to catch.

 

Too strong to catch, but not strong enough to break into the town, and they sullenly watched from a distance as the teams left to the accompaniment of wailing of fear and anger and loss rising over the valley.

 

Those that weren't left in the woods were dragged back, spellbound and wrapped well in rope and chain, caged in the enchanted cages they'd hauled into town with them. Anything and everything they could catch and bind, it didn't matter what, so long as it was magical, was trapped. Gnome, manotaur, dryad and more, they struggled and cursed but couldn't break free of cage or chain, dragged into town or out of their homes and left guarded in the town square.

 

If they needed blood to bring Alcor the Dreambender to them and trap him inside their circle, then the creatures could finally be useful.

 

And their lives would be useful during the Cleansing, to boost what magic the Alliance had at their disposal. It didn't matter how many died, so long as it was successful.

 

Really, they should be grateful. For once in their miserable lives, they'd be doing something worthwhile.

 

 

Mabel woke all at once, consciousness returning in an unwelcome rush.

 

Must've been a spell. Those were about the only thing that she woke up that fast from. And wasn't it depressing that she knew the difference between waking from being knocked out by a spell as opposed to drugs?

 

She hissed when she tried to move her head and had to spend a few precious seconds pulling her hair free, since apparently whoever had tied her up had gotten her hair tangled in whatever they'd tied her with.

 

It felt like rope, and she wasn't going to complain. Better than zip ties again, those hurt sooner and gave less.

 

She squirmed and twisted until she was properly upright and wasn't sure if she was relieved or worried to see Henry, Grunkle Stan, and three of the kids tied up in the same room.

 

On the one hand, she knew where they were. On the other...they were all caught and tied up by Gideon and his cronies. Not good.

 

She met Henry's eyes across the room and gave a little nod at Willow and Grunkle Stan. He mouthed “Spell” with a nod of his own towards Stan and Willow, and “drugs” with a nod at himself.

 

Mabel immediately began to worry, though Willow seemed to be okay so far. She was leaning up against her father's side, breathing evenly and deeply.

 

Acacia and Reina were propped up against a disgruntled Grunkle Stan, who looked crankier than usual, and Mabel suspected being tied up on the floor wasn't helping the aches and pains he wouldn't always admit to having.

 

She gave a jerk of her chin towards the door, eyes asking silently, ' _Can we take them? Mizar and Woodsman?'_

 

Henry winced and gave a little shake of his head, nodding towards the kids, eyes darting towards Stan so the older man wouldn't see. ' _Not if we want to protect the kids. Too many out there.'_

 

Silently Mabel cursed. Powerful though their family may be, there could very well be enough out there to take them down with sheer numbers, or to get through their defenses to the kids, who may have been able to take care of themselves but she wouldn't put them at risk.

 

Henry's eyes were apologetic, but firm. Best to keep certain things to themselves until they had an opening they could use to their advantage, chafing as the wait may be.

 

After that exchange the three awake stayed silent, both to let the other three keep sleeping and to keep their captors from knowing they'd woken up yet.

 

They weren't sure how much time had passed when comparative calm was shattered by door swinging open, revealing Gideon Gleeful's swaggering form.

 

He strode in proudly, and Mabel took quick note of the differences time had given to Gideon, so she'd know just what to hit first when she took him down.

 

Same style of suit, same style of hair, he looked largely unchanged from the fake child psychic that had caused them so much misery, save a change in height and more vicious gleam to his eyes, as if his time outside Gravity Falls had only sharpened the hunger already there, a roughness that said he still believed the world owed him something and had yet to pay up.

 

Gideon spread his arms, beaming at Mabel as if they were friends meeting on the street rather than enemies in a back room, apparently forgetting her earlier attempt at vehicular annihilation. “Mabel! My marshmallow!” he cried joyfully.

 

Behind Gideon's back, Mabel could see Henry mouth 'Marshmallow?' with the most repulsed and confused expression she'd seen her husband wear in a very long time.

 

She would have laughed, but Gideon's exuberance had woken the kids, and she was more worried about them than amused by Henry.

 

Meanwhile, if looks could kill, the sheer force of Grunkle Stan's glare would have set Gideon on fire and vaporized the ashes. Privately, Mabel was surprised he hadn't said anything yet, probably so he wouldn't wake the kids earlier and saving it up for the moment, letting Mabel handle things for now.

 

It _almost_ made her regret that Great Uncle Ford barely lived in Gravity Falls anymore and was off on a research trip anyway. Between Gideon's face at seeing _two_ Stans and seeing Gideon get the beatdown by two senior citizens, everything just might have been worth it – plus it would have been hilarious.

 

“I missed you, Mabel,” Gideon continued, oblivious. He leaned closer to Mabel, a manic grin on his face. “Did you miss me? Where's that brother of yours now, hmm? And who're these folks little ol' me found hanging out in the Shack?”

 

Mabel scowled and gave Gideon a solid headbutt, the man cursing and stumbling backwards to sprawl on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose. “Of course I didn't miss you, you buttface! You tried to kill my brother and destroy the Mystery Shack! And there won't be enough of you left for a funeral by the time we're done with you for touching our family!”

 

Gideon snarled, hauling himself to his feet and wiping the blood of his face, reaching threateningly for something in his pocket while ignoring (or not hearing) the anger of Mabel's family as he and she stared each other down.

 

Then what Mabel had said seemed to (finally) register, and Gideon glanced over at Henry and the kids with dawning realization, horror, and betrayal.

 

“You...he...they...” he sputtered, and Mabel didn't help matters by grinning, wide and proud. Henry, on the other hand, was watching them with mingled resignation and worry.

 

The twins had only mentioned Gideon a few times, though it was with a surprising amount of hatred, given the twosome. He hadn't thought they could hate anyone until Gideon's name came up. (Hold a grudge, sure, Dipper in particular could win medals in grudge-holding, but not actual _hate,_ and Mabel...)

 

And now Gideon, the only person (besides Bill Cipher, but he didn't count) that the twins spoke of with hatred and disgust, was back. Just great. This was worse than the usual cults they got dragged into – this one was personal.

 

Gideon's face was turning an unhealthy shade of purple as he looked between the six people in the room, not helped at all by Stan's mocking cackles. If they hadn't been tied up and at his mercy, it might have been funny, but as it was, Henry could feel Willow tensing, and he was sure it would only take a few more seconds before she burst into flame if Gideon made one more move towards her mother.

 

Another man appeared in the doorway as Gideon drew breath, ready to start some kind of rant or threats.

 

“Gideon, what are you doing?” he demanded.

 

Gideon spun to face him furiously, pointing at Mabel with a finger that shook in rage. “She...she got married! And had kids!”

 

The other man glanced at Mabel, his assessing gaze passing over her and leaving her shivering with the sheer calculating coldness of his eyes.

 

His gaze passed over her husband, grunkle, and kids in the same dispassionate sweep before returning to Gideon. “Well, you might be able to do something about that yet. Get them moving – we can't risk leaving them alone, they're too high of a risk. Time's wasting, and we have to move fast before Alcor gets here. He's supposed to be protective of this town, so we need to summon him back home before someone else can or he returns on his own.” He pulled the hood of his robe up, tossing a similar one to Gideon. “Get that on and let's go.”

 

 

Mabel stumbled as Gideon hauled her along towards where they were going to try and summon her brother, his grip on her arm sure to leave bruises.

 

She wasn't sure why Dipper hadn't shown up yet, but she hoped he had a damn good reason for it. Preferably before Gideon and his friend could summon him – if it was just Gideon, she'd expect a circle Dipper could break sooner or later, with how his power was now, but Gideon's friends were too with it for her liking.

 

Well, he'd probably beat himself up over this either way after it was all over, good reason or not, but right now she wasn't feeling very charitable about how badly he was going to feel later when she needed him here right now.

 

As she tried to call Dipper back with sheer force of will, she and her family were dragged to the small church Gravity Falls boasted near the center of town, right by the town square and community center.

 

They were already halfway through the summoning ritual when Gideon and his partner dragged them into the church, the air thick with the smoke from a dozen different herbs and half a dozen more incense blends, the burning of numerous candles adding more smoke than light.

 

There were layers of circles etched into the church floor, a good seven of them, filled with crystals and bells and cleansing herbs and holy water, sigils and more.

 

Mabel caught the hot, metallic smell of blood and saw red when she saw the lifeless bodies of several gnomes, pixies, and a unicorn spaced around one of the circles, their blood filling symbols carved into the space between the third and fourth circle.

 

It seemed Gideon's friends had no problem spilling blood so long as it 'needed' to be shed.

 

Darkness gathered at the edges of the innermost circle, and Mabel's heart sank as the binding circles woven into the between the other circles she hadn't noticed in the clamor of their entrance began to glow.

 

But there was no time to do anything to warn Dipper – he was already shimmering into form inside the circle, the gold speckled smoke of his entrance coiling around the legs of the summoners.

 

She saw her brother blink a few times as he realized just where he was, surrounded by hooded cultists in the center of _his_ town, and he flared into his more demonic form before he'd even finished fully coming onto the physical plane.

 

 

The demon trapped inside the circle (temporarily, they were sure now as the circles flickered, and only by the multiple layers of bindings, holy water, and salt surrounding him, the cleansing herbs and church incense being burned everywhere they could fit more alongside every holy symbol they could get their hands on, the blood spilled to hold him) hissed at them all, a noise no human throat could make, golden fire streaming from his eyes and mouth.

 

The creature was black as the void from the tips of his shoes to the top of his hat, traced with golden brickwork, with a golden eye on his forehead and two rows of razor sharp teeth inside the golden pit of fire that was his mouth on full, vicious display as he continued his unholy hissing, claw tipped hands held at the ready, flickers of blue fire and gold sparks dancing over the deadly sharp tips, and Gideon was fairly sure some of the newer members had already wet themselves.

 

Not Gideon. ' _Yes_ ', he thought instead, gloating, 'This, this is the most powerful demon in existence, and he's _ours_. This creature is the key to undoing The Transcendence and fixing everything and getting back everything I deserve!'

 

The demon – Alcor the Dreambender, Gideon remembered, somehow it was scarier with the name than without – continued to snarl, eyes traveling over the assembled members of The Grand Anti-Transcendence Alliance. The flames intensified when he saw the cult members surrounding Mabel and her family (traitorous woman, to have married and had children when she was supposed to wait for Gideon), blue flames erupting around his hands and slowly traveling across his body.

 

“L̒͂̌͏̪̞̙̼̬̺̝̥̪͠e̷͙͍̮̦̣ͦ̓̒t̷͇̞͚͉̥̼̩ͧ͡.͙̼̼̫̫͊̾̇̈ͬ ̗̯͕̻̩̮͈̦͆̑Ţ̛̙͖̦̻̝͚̗̭̓ͬ̿ͨͦ͆̌͛͠h̴͍͇̩͕͖̺̦̤́͂̾ͪ͗ͣ͊ë͚̟̍̓̂ͅm̶̜͙̓ͯ.͇̘̆̊̄ͥ̍ͮ̅̇̎͝ ̱̲̱͓͎̊ͣ͟Ǧ̷͈̜͐̓ͣo͍̰̠̙̠͒͛͌ͪͤͪ,̝͖̤͋͛ͨ ” he snarled, voice echoing around the church though he'd spoken quietly, metallic and echoing. Two of the newest members looked close to passing out, and those on either side of them held them up.

 

Gideon stepped closer to the outermost circle furiously, anger overcoming common sense. “They're mine, demon. We're not bargaining with them.”

 

The furious demon shot to the edge of that same circle, passing over the waiting inner circles to hover inches away from Gideon, and the circle flared as it fought to contain him, strengthened by being inside a church, even if it was in a town as unholy as Gravity Falls. Alcor hissed as the circle held, though it was a close thing, and Gideon had to fight not to back down in the face of the demon's anger.

 

He did break into a cold sweat, could feel it soaking into his suit, and Alcor...well, it could be called a 'smile', in the idea that 'he bared all his (far too many sharp, sharp, very very sharp, inches from his throat oh god) teeth and the corners of his mouth turned up', but there was nothing pleasant about it.

 

Then Alcor's eyes met his and he felt pinned, a bug on cardboard, unable to move or tear his gaze from the demon's.

 

“I̧f҉ ͏́y̷̛o̸҉u̸̶ ̢t̴͟ou͢c̡͟h͏ ͟t̨͟h̛e͏̛m͠͝ ͜͡͠a̡g͏a̧in͘st͡ ̨t҉̢͘h̢̀e̡͢i̶͠r ͠w͜į͞ll̡͡, if̢ ̡t͝h̡ey'v̨e so ̡mu̢c̛h ͞as̷ ͘a ̡s͘cra͠tch҉ ̴on t̀hęm̢,” Alcor hissed, quiet enough Gideon was sure only the two of them could make out what he said, “you̸r҉ ̀t͝o̕rm̀e̢n̷t ͘w̧ill ͏la͏st҉ fa͘r҉ ̨be҉y͘òn̶d ̛y͜ou͢r d̢e͜at̵h̡.͘”

 

It was more than a promise or threat, but a solemn oath, and Gideon felt the magic of it tingle throughout his body with ice cold chills.

 

A stream of holy water hit Alcor in the face and chest and he shrieked, an unholy sound that shattered glass and made several of the crusaders fall to their knees, clutching their heads in pain. It forced him back into the central circle, away from Gideon, who staggered backwards away from the glowing circle, freed of Alcor's gaze.

 

Anthony kept the stream on Alcor steady until the demon hit his knees, the black sluicing off to reveal something more human as if the water itself were washing it away. Mabel was screaming at them, her voice a blur to Gideon's ears, something about demanding they stop, they were hurting him, and it didn't make sense to defend the demon, but it was Mabel so he dismissed it as her usual silliness.

 

The demon shook his head, water splattering around the circle as he braced himself on the floor, hissing balefully and glaring at Anthony as the supply of holy water the man was using ran out and sputtered to a stop.

 

Two of the brighter subordinates started chanting, the two binding circles closest to the center beginning to light up as more joined the chant and the circles were activated, the innermost circle closing with an audible snap.

 

Alcor hissed again, softly and full of hate and anger as the circles sprang into life. (A small part of Gideon's mind that wasn't roiling with shock noted who they were that started chanting, that they could be rewarded later since those type needed a tight leash lest they strike out on their own.)

 

Gideon pulled back his hood as he stared at the demon's more human form, needing a better look without the hood blocking his vision. Alcor looked up and saw him, gold on black eyes going wide in recognition before narrowing in hate, and something about it seemed so familiar, teasing at the edge of Gideon's memory as they gaped at each other.

 

His eyes shot over to Mabel and back to the demon, his mind coming to an impossible conclusion. But...same hair...almost identical faces, once he blocked out the teeth, the demonic eyes and pointed ears...

 

“It...it can't be!” he gasped, pointing dramatically with a shaking hand at Alcor the Dreambender, true name... “Dipper! Dipper Pines!”

 

Claws dug deep into the stone of the floor as the speaking of Dipper's true name solidified the circles around him tighter, pointed ears pinned back as he glared at Gideon with hate like he hadn't felt in a very, very long time, and several cultists involuntarily made little noises of distress as the very air reflected the demon's anger, hot and tight and near burning.

 

“How is this possible?” Gideon shrieked, and the crusaders who hadn't already been taken out by Dipper's scream winced in pain, chant faltering before the stronger ones resumed it, ignored by the players of the drama before them. “You were _human!_ You were supposed to die during the Transcendence!”

 

Dipper managed to force up a mocking smile, all too sharp teeth and too wide mouth, as Gideon continued to rant, staying silent and refusing to say a word.

 

Anthony ignored Gideon's rant, leaning closer to the active circles though still keeping a healthy distance from them, careful not to break the lines, inspecting Dipper closer through it all.

 

Dipper glared at him out of the corner of his eye, a thoroughly unimpressed and haughty look, before he rose again to his feet, ostensibly ignoring Gideon and continuing to rise until he was floating a solid foot above the ground. He took off the hat that had remained stubbornly floating over his head throughout everything and flicked it, giving it a squeeze to remove most of the water before returning it to his head.

 

Never breaking eye contact with Anthony, he nonchalantly removed the coat he was wearing and gave it similar treatment, wringing out the holy water that had soaked it. He gave it a flick, holy water showering over Anthony, who flinched at the shock of the still cold water and attempted to hide it.

 

The coat steamed dry in Dipper's hands and he gave it another flick before slipping it back on, still silent and deathly calm. (Apparently, he'd have to thank Mabel for all those times she'd squirted him with holy water. Getting it on his face, in his eyes, had hurt, burned, and very badly, but now that he wasn't actively being sprayed it was dying down to a minor annoyance that he was used to. Okay, maybe not it being in his eyes, but it was getting better and healing with each passing second. Not like the time Acacia had gotten him full in the face, and healing faster than it had then since only a little had made it into his eyes.)

 

Inwardly, he was starting to panic. These were strong binding circles, and he could feel them holding him here the way no circle had really held him in years, inside the ring of salt and rosemary and sage and a dozen other cleansing herbs, holy symbols and water and bindings and who knew what else, trapped while his family was tied up and in danger not a dozen feet away and he couldn't do anything to help them. And there were still four more circles around these three, waiting to spring to life at any second, powered by...oh god...several of the creatures of Gravity Falls, and they were going to _pay_ for hurting the supernatural of his home.

 

Gravity Falls was supposed to be _safe_ if you weren't human, safe in a way most of the world wasn't, and these pathetic scum had taken that away without a single thought.

 

And Gideon. _Gideon_. Dipper would have been happy never to see the man again in his life, and yet there he was, winding up his rant and panting as he glared at Dipper.

 

A slow, evil grin spread across Gideon's face, and Dipper wasn't sure anymore just who was the scariest creature in the room.

 

“W̦̮̰ͦ̌́ͧ̊̐͡h̥̠̦̱͍̹͈̅̾͑̊ȳ̻̘̣̈̉ͦ̋͞ ̨͇̤̐ͧ̔̐̒̊̋hͬ̄҉͉͕a̲͚͉̺̤͆͊́̓͊̆v̧͆̋̂ͬ̎e̛̦ ̵͍͎̫̻̃̈́ͦ̎̽ͬy̶ͫ͂͋o͈̫̣͗ͭ̈͑̃͒͢u͕̫͚̭̰̯̦ ͎̦͓̦̝̅ͅt͚͖ͩ̇̍a̗̤̦̱͇̼ͯ͊͛͑̓ͪ͊k̯̳̩̦̭͐̄̔ͤ̊̀͠e̺̫̜̦̊̋n̦͍̹͉̮̯ͤ̿͗̓͞ ͎̅ͣ̅ͦ͐ͥͬ͜ť̟̕h̯̙͈̜͉̟̞ͮ̑̽ͦ͊ͯ̚e̛͚̲̟̺͑m̮̣͕͎̓ͨ͊ͧ̕?̩̯̦̟̣͇̥͛͡ ̫̺͕̎ͮ̈̆̐ͪW̳ͩ́̂̓́ͣ͆h̼̮͔͇̘̺̍̍͋ͫͥ͊̏y̟̠̼͉ ̮̒ͯͮ̆̓h͖̏̌ͯ̾ͪ͌̑ǎ̴v͈͔̜ḛ̰̺̺͖̩̟ͦ͋̋̄̊̾̕ ͍̲͍ͭ͗y̨̖͇̟̭̙̎̌̌̚ọ̦̣̼̼u̧͓̘̰̤͙͈̥ ̝̩̙̜̊̒ͣ͝s͉͔͉ͦ͜u̷̩̙̯̹͓ͦ͋ͪͅm̎͟m͖̣̱̍́̈́͜o͔̤͚͖̰͉ͬ̎n̢̙̱e̱̼ͣ̾̐ͩ̀̚d͙̎̃̿͊̉͢ ̈́͗̔ͪ̚m̧̝͓͙͉̟̠ͦ̌̿ͩ͌̏̐ͅe͕̲͕?̺͉ͨ͆̀” he demanded, already knowing he'd given away the fact that he cared about these particular humans and that Gideon was right, that Gideon knew who he was, but keeping up the act despite that.

 

The man who'd sprayed him was smiling as the cultists began to pick themselves and each other from the floor, drawing closer to the binding circle and Dipper's family.

 

“Why, we're going to undo the Transcendence, of course,” he said serenely. “And you, Dipper Pines, are the key to our plan. And like it or not, you are going to help us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Dipper being summoned is one of the first things I actually wrote for this story. Though I did keep changing it thanks to everything changing so fast – it and about 50% of this story. Still a scene I quite enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

Hank Pines paced the floor of the apartment he shared with his fiancee, Vivienne Chen. Something was wrong with his family, his parents and siblings and uncle and grunkle, he was sure of it, but he had no idea why he was so sure they were in danger.

 

There had been no call, either mundane or occult, to let him know there was trouble. No message, no reason for this knowledge, nothing but an unshakable feeling that there was danger threatening his family.

 

Hank kept finding himself rubbing the pine tree tattooed on his hip as he paced, the tattoo he shared with his sisters that doubled as an emergency summon for his uncle. It felt normal, not extra warm to the touch or sending little sparks through his fingers, and for a few seconds he was tempted to use it, summon his uncle and convince himself he was being silly...even if it was supposed to be for emergencies only and using it would mean at least a good half hour of convincing his uncle that everything was fine at the very least.

 

Vivi watched him from the kitchen, where she was sitting and nursing a cup of coffee. “Hank, would you just call your family already?” she said. “Whatever way you want to, I don't care how. You're going to keep worrying until you do.”

 

Hack ran a hand through his hair, grimacing. “It's silly, though,” he protested. “It's just a feeling, I...there's no reason to think anything's wrong.”

 

“You've been pacing for two hours,” Vivi pointed out, laughing to cover her worry. “Just call already, before you wear out the carpet. You've spent this long living with a demon, something had to rub off on you, right?” she added, tossing Hank's own explanation for the things he could pull off and his blank reactions to the inexplicable back at him. “Just...do it, okay? Before I pick up a phone myself.”

 

Hank gave a sheepish grin and grabbed some candy, heading into the living room. Seconds later the large rug in front of the couch was flipped over to display the side with the family version of his uncle's summoning circle, the one he'd always answer as soon as he possibly could, even if he had to cut another summons short for it if it 'felt' urgent.

 

“About time you quit pacing and did something,” a voice said from the depths of the couch, and Hank nearly jumped out of his skin. Lucy Ann gave him a toothy grin as he looked over, for all practical purposes hidden where she'd curled up in the corner of the couch.

 

He hesitated, but Lucy Ann never had patience for beating around the bush (odd how it was the people Hank knew were immortal and had the most time who were also the ones with the least patience), so he asked, “You think something's wrong, too?”

 

Lucy Ann made a face, scooting to the edge of the couch to see the circle and Hank better. She shrugged, crossing tiny arms. “I didn't feel the Transcendence coming, so I don't think I'm the best guide for this, but...yeah. Something doesn't feel right. Too vague for anything else so it's useless, though. For all I know we all just got food poisoning. I told you you should leave the cooking to the ones who know what they're doing,” she added with a fang bearing, mocking grin.

 

“Yeah, well, things would be too easy if we got actual warnings right?” Hank said wryly. “And I don't think it's possible for you to get food poisoning.” That said, he dropped the candy on the side table and dug in his pocket, pulling out the lancet he'd started carrying around for moments like this. It was easier and cleaner than a knife or trying to find something suitable on the fly, and didn't get as many awkward questions.

 

Ben and Toby, the only other members of the Dinner Club in the apartment at the moment, made their way closer to the circle, eying it with interest. Ben in particular was fascinated with Hank's demon uncle, even if that worried Hank just a little. Uncle Dipper was, by his own admission, not the best role model, and Ben was already trigger happy enough on his own.

 

Ignoring his audience and wandering thoughts, a click of a button later and there was a drop of blood beaded on Hank's finger to be wiped away on the summoning circle.

 

“Hey, Uncle Dipper, I need to talk to you,” Hank said, forgoing the proper invocation as pretty much everyone in the Pines family circle usually did (or learned to, very quickly).

 

He sat back on his heels and waited, but the circle stayed dark and lifeless. Still, sometimes Uncle Dipper was out on another summon and it took him awhile to answer their summons when it wasn't urgent. It usually got the answering machine or something similar, true, but...

 

After ten minutes he was getting properly worried, not the vague worry of before when he had nothing to go on, so he tried again, with another drop of blood and another call of his uncle's name that still left the circle dark and still. After twenty, he was sure something was definitely, horribly wrong and ready to start panicking.

 

Uncle Dipper always ditched his other summons for family summonses as soon as he could, no matter how casual they were or how serious the original summons. Hank reached out and touched the circle cautiously, worrying at his lip before coming to a decision.

 

Uncle Dipper would never ignore a summons from family. And Uncle Dipper always knew when family was trying to summon him, no matter what else was going on or how little ceremony family used to call him.

 

He rose to his feet, looking at Lucy Ann solemnly. “Lucy Ann?”

 

“What?”

 

“Get _everyone_.”

 

Lucy Ann blinked at him, for a moment taken aback, and the buzz that was Ben's wings faltered in surprise. “Everyone? You mean...”

 

“Everyone,” Hank said, cutting her off. “Allies, Dinner Crew, everyone we've got any kind of connections with that'll listen and help. We're going to Gravity Falls.”

 

 

Seconds after giving his announcement, the man with Gideon – Dipper's omniscience helpfully let him know his name was Anthony, though Dipper would rather call him something like more along the lines of 'Ultimate Jerkface' – was giving orders that the other cultists were snapping to follow.

 

Anthony stepped between Dipper and the door, blocking his view of Mabel, though he could still hear her (and Acacia) throwing insults at cultist and Gideon alike (though mostly at Gideon). Henry twisted and caught Dipper's eye over Anthony's head, giving his brother a nod. No matter what happened, Henry had his back. He'd watch over their family, but Dipper needed to get out of there and take care of this, and fast.

 

“You will cooperate with us,” Anthony said quietly, “or we will use them in your place, starting with the youngest.”

 

Dipper couldn't stop the snarl as the cultists began to herd his family away, back out the door, and any cultist not already occupied darted to the binding circles to reinforce them.

 

Fools. The only thing keeping him from tearing his way out of the bindings – and while they were strong and getting stronger, snapping into the visible realm as chains that looped themselves around his neck and wrists and ankles, heavy and vexing, he could break them, given enough time and motivation, and he had plenty of the second – was the threat to his family.

 

“Wait,” Anthony said suddenly, eying Dipper calculatingly, and the cultists herding the family out the door – or to be more precise, dragging them out the door, loudly and with many insults and protests – paused. “One of the children stays. As...insurance. He may be tempted if it would take us time to get to all of them.”

 

Chaos erupted as a pair of cultists pulled Willow away from the rest of the group. She lashed out, managing to kick two of them in the face, while her family took out more than should have been possible, bound as they were.

 

Dipper rammed up against the boundary of the circle, barely held back by the chains of bindings, screeching with rage and barely held within as the few cultists not being taken out by his family frantically repaired the damage he was doing to the circle almost as quickly as he tore into it.

 

Willow yelped when Anthony got a grip on her hair, hauling her head back and holding a knife dangerously close to her throat, and everyone froze, glaring at him with hatred bare in their eyes.

 

It was debatable, though, whose snarling was more frightening – Dipper, the actual demon's, or Mabel's, the mother and protective sister.

 

“Stop panicking!” Anthony snapped at the cultists. “Did you think they would go down without a fight? We all knew going into this that we'd have to fight to make sure good prevailed! Now get moving and secure the Pines! We have too much to do to waste with these dramatics!”

 

Gideon hesitated at the doorway, obviously torn between watching whatever it was they were planning and following after Mabel as several cultists forced the family out the door even as more pulled Willow away from the rest, keeping knife and gun ready until she was securely tied to the railing of the stairs to the choir loft.

 

Anthony waved a lazy hand, secure again in his control, and Dipper got the distinct impression that while Gideon might think they were partners, Anthony considered himself the leader of this venture. “Go on, see that your...marshmallow...is properly secured while as comfortable as can be in these circumstances. Do try to be quick, though. We have much yet to do tonight, and we need to get started.”

 

 

Toby sent the message to his mother, Carys, matriarch of their silicate, who passed it through the rocks to the rest of the silicates in Oregon, and it spread from there. Teena sent the message on the wind to the pixie tribes, Jerry to the gnome troops, Damara to the fairies, Oonagh and her selkie friends, each species, each group within the Dinner Club passing the word on, and those who heard it passed it on to everyone else they knew, faster than humans could have believed, one to the other to another across the continent.

 

Because what Hank hadn't counted on, wouldn't have believed even if he'd been told, was the reputation he and his family had begun to gain amount the light-oriented (or at least, non-evil, and even some of the not so non-evil) supernatural of the country.

 

If you're in trouble, seek out a Gravity Falls Pines. Call on Mizar, the Woodsman, the Dinner Crew if you could, and you'd get help. Catch Alcor in the right mood, or be in trouble, and demon or not, he'd help. Grudgingly, maybe, and there'd be a price, but if you were really in trouble he'd help, believe it or not.

 

And despite his attempts at pretending otherwise to protect his demon cred, Alcor was starting to be rumored as having a bit of a soft spot for kids, for the helpless – and a vengeance for the ones who tried to take advantage of that.

 

And while the Transcendence may have screwed up a lot of things for those of a supernatural bent, especially right afterwards, in the long run there was more good then bad, and they owed Alcor and Mizar for that – and for keeping the world from being destroyed. Not everyone had forgotten just who had stopped Bill Cipher and kept it from being much worse than it could have been.

 

So the word spread across the continent, and to the confusion of those with the Sight, those who paid attention to the supernatural, the attention of the supernatural community turned to Gravity Falls, and packs, herds, silicates, bands and all began rushing toward it in a mass migration the likes of which hadn't been seen in centuries, and never before by humankind.

 

 

Hank stared over the mass of supernatural creatures in undisguised shock and a hint of dismay.

 

He hadn't thought there were that many different people answering to him and his! How did this happen, and how was he going to get them all to Gravity Falls? Kiyo couldn't carry this many, “Team Bus” medallion notwithstanding. She could handle a lot of them, but...this was more than Hank had ever seen at one time, far more than the usual two to three hundred he'd thought the Dinner Crew topped out at.

 

Where'd they all come from?!

 

Lucy Ann, standing beside him, snorted, sounding like she was barely holding back from outright laughing at his expression. “These are the ones from Portland,” she said smugly. “Everyone with ties outside the city is sending out the call. We're all meeting at Gravity Falls.”

 

“I...I don't...”

 

Lucy Ann glared at Hank, and he prudently shut his mouth. “We've told you before that you were changing things. You don't want folk following you, stop rescuing them and being so damn nice. You said everyone, we got you everyone.”

 

Hank just rubbed his temple. “Okay. Right. Not going to argue with you right now. We need all the help we can get. Just...how are we getting everyone to Gravity Falls?”

 

Lucy Ann smirked again. “Just leave that to us.”

 

 

The chains draping over Dipper were getting heavier by the minute as the cultists – he refused to call them anything else, no matter how they thought of themselves – continued chanting and adjusting the circles around him, tightening them and keeping him bound.

 

Still, it was keeping their attention on him and off Willow, who was still tied to the stair railing. There was one cultist keeping an eye on her, but she was steadily working on her bonds each time their attention wandered.

 

In addition, more than once he saw a cultist stop and have to take a deep breath, fear and worry, guilt or shame flashing across their face before they forced themselves back to their tasks.

 

_'Good girl_ ', he sent to Willow, trying to give her love and reassurance without letting her know just how scared and angry he was, as much if not more for his family than himself. Willow hated using that part of her power, after the memories of the first few times she'd used it.

 

That she was willing to use it now spoke volumes.

 

There had to be a loophole in the bindings somewhere that he could exploit to get out of here, but they were watching him so closely, reinforcing the layers of circles every time he so much as blinked, that he hadn't been able to even look for it yet, not with the threat to Willow. If it weren't for that, then damn the consequences, the pain, he'd have been fighting his way out, by sheer force if he had to. But with them poised over his precious niblet, so on edge to strike her down if he moved wrong...

 

He had the vague impression that they weren't satisfied with the circles, from the quiet mumblings, and he knew their leader was planning something, but the sheer number of circles and chains and bindings buzzing in his hears, making his vision waver at times, were interfering with knowing what it was.

 

'Undo the Transcendence'...honestly, didn't they know it'd been tried before? The circumstances that had led to the Transcendence itself...they'd been made with chaos and fire and plans that had taken centuries to create – and the best he and Mabel had been able to do was change it for this outcome, rather than whatever Bill had been planning. It had been dumb luck and an unprecedented mix of unpredictable choices that couldn't be recreated, let alone untangled enough to be undone.

 

The sounds from behind Dipper sounded like they were trying to tear down the church's walls (Smart, to do this inside a church, even if it wasn't as effective as it might have been, but it was uncomfortable, like an itch under his skin – irritating but mostly ignorable in the rush of other sensations. They were still lucky it hadn't actually set the church on fire by accident.) but he didn't turn to look.

 

He was too busy staring at their leader, and while Anthony was pretending indifference to the unblinking, inhuman stare fixed on him, even the most minor of spirits would have recognized just how uncomfortable Dipper was making the man.

 

Dipper was almost ready to break his (if he was honest with himself) sullen silence and try to demand some answers when Gideon slipped back into the church, closing the door firmly behind him.

 

“The Pines are secured,” he said, “But I wish you'd let me do something about that husband Mabel took on,” glancing quickly at Dipper when the demon growled. He swallowed nervously before rallying, glaring back at Dipper. His eyes settled finally on Dipper's shoulder, unable to hold eye contact for long. “Are we getting started yet or what?”

 

“Impatient now, are we?” Anthony asked, managing to sound amused. “We're almost ready to begin stage two.”

 

“Good,” Gideon hissed. “I want to watch him _suffer_ for taking my marshmallow from me!”

 

“And he shall,” Anthony promised, with another smile that made Dipper's stomach try and turn itself inside out. “I can promise you that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lancet (technically I'm referring to a blood lancet, as there's also a scalpel version) is used by people with diabetes to get blood to test their blood sugar. Something utterly normal that only gets you a drop of blood, all a Pines would need, that doesn't get attention like slicing your arm does. It looks a bit like a pen.  
> Have to be somewhere this evening, so we get an update a few hours early. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for blood and violence in this chapter.

From behind the circles came the sound of struggling, scents of panic and despair, and Dipper saw Willow's eyes grow wide even as cries of pain sounded from behind the circle, sounds cut brutally short. The scent of blood and death hit him seconds later even as Willow cried out a denial.

 

The circles and chains glowed with blood, pain, and death magic, all the more potent for the magic of of those killed, and Dipper's roar of rage mingled with Willow's scream.

 

Dipper panicked as the chains binding him began hauling him backwards, fighting them with everything he had, even as the new blood made them stronger. Whatever they were doing, he wanted no part of it!

 

He twisted to try and see what was happening and realized that, while he'd been glaring at Anthony and Gideon, their underlings had made a bridge to a smaller set of circles, slowly and gradually enough that he'd not noticed in between everything else they'd been doing.

 

Faintly he smelled newer blood over the clinging reek of the blood of more of his friends from the woods, and he recognized it as Willow's, that she was panicking even worse than he and had torn her wrists in her fight to get free, flickers of fire running down her arms to the panicked cry of the cultist watching her, lost in the rest of the chaos.

 

A surge of adrenaline at that scent gave him strength enough to break an arm free and lunge forward, claws piercing through Gideon's suit and skin without a mark only to gouge slashes on the soul beneath. He hadn't been aiming for that, but he'd do whatever damage he could right now if it would _make them stop make them_ _**b̷l̀e͢èd** _ _m҉àk̷e҉ ͝t͏h҉em͞ ͞_ _**pa͝y҉** _.

 

Gideon screamed and terror flowed around Dipper, thick and heady and strong, as Anthony barked out orders, an edge of panic to his voice that only Dipper could hear.

 

The chanting grew louder, faster, frightened and determined, and the smell of blood grew stronger as more was spilled. Dipper's lunge had thrown him off balance enough that their magic got a grip before he could right himself, dragging him backwards hard and fast.

 

His claws ripped free of Gideon's soul, the man ignored as collapsed on the floor gasping for air. Fighting for a grip against the force pulling at him, Dipper's claws dug into the floor, leaving gouges in the marble before tearing free as his grip slipped, the polished marble too slick to hold even when he dug in and curled his claws into it against the force they were using.

 

The sudden loss of his grip sent Dipper flying backwards, tangled in their spell. Then his back hit something solid, something that thunked like wood, and he fought to get away even as the binding chains forced his arms up to shoulder height, tight against more wood.

 

Physical chains were thrown about him an instant later, tightening with every second that he couldn't get free, silver and cold iron chains hung and engraved with runes of binding and cleansing, soaked in sage and holy water and salt, and despite not needing to breathe it was suddenly hard to catch his breath.

 

Even through the stunned shock coursing through his system, he could vaguely feel more chains being flung around his legs, his arms and torso, even his wings, all of them digging in viciously tight, and hear Willow screaming, the screams of other cultists joining in as her own flames grew to match his.

 

He fought the chains, steadily growing anger and fear for Willow making him burn with flickering blue flame, flaring brighter and only barely dampened by the spells and cleansing herbs surrounding him as he realized just what they'd bound him to.

 

A _cross_. They'd...crucified him, bound him to a _cross_ engraved with holy symbols and runes of binding, and everything hurt, from every inch of where he was pressed against the wood to where the chain bit into his skin, harsh enough to burn away some of his suit to dig into the skin underneath. It was tugged back into the original circles as he fought still, the binding circles closed behind him and the outer circles allowed to fade as the bindings on the cross did their work.

 

Despite the steadily growing terror he glared at his captors, baring his teeth in a feral snarl. The air trembled with the quiet snarls coming from his chest, soft and vicious, going straight to the animal part of the brain and flicking the switch marked 'run the hell away'.

 

A few cult members still looked nervous, more than one faltering as that snarl hit the panic centers of their minds, though more and more looked victorious as he didn't break free of the chains and the wires swiftly being added to his bonds despite his vicious tugging at them.

 

Willow, kneeling and with blood streaming down her still bound wrists, had gone quiet, and the part of Dipper that could still think coherently at the moment through the anger, the rising part of him that was pure demon and demanding _blood pain how dare they make them_ _ **suffer**_ was thankful she wasn't having an attack. Yet. She looked pale as a sheet, though, and ferociously angry, eyes burning and teeth clenched, hands balled with impotent rage, and breathing heavily, but not yet having an attack.

 

She also looked rather damp, and some small part of him suspected she'd been doused to kill her fire.

 

“Stage two has begun. Now...we can't afford to block or exhaust his powers more than we have or we can't use them. But we do need to make sure he won't try escaping again, so we need to exhaust or break _him_. Gideon, I believe you'll enjoy this more than I would, so I'll let you begin. Just remember – we need him relatively healthy for our plans. Shall we see how much a demon can take?”

 

Gideon struggled to his feet, still clutching his chest and pale, gasping for air. The wounds Dipper had left on him, impulsive and reckless as they were, would take a long time to heal, though they might eventually if Gideon didn't deepen them with his own actions.

 

Fat chance of that.

 

Then Gideon grinned, wide and evil, as he accepted the long, thin whip Anthony handed him, flicking it experimentally as he walked slowly and purposefully, savoring the moment, toward the bound Dipper, a hint of madness and glee in his eyes. “Ah thought you'd never ask.”

 

 

Kiyo swooped low over the valley containing Gravity Falls. They could have been there earlier, but the sheer sudden numbers of people needing transport and the logistics involved delayed their departure.

 

They'd gotten as many of their people as they dared onto Kiyo's back before setting off. She'd scoffed at Hank's caution when it came to how many she could carry, but he'd insisted on fewer than she'd proposed. There could be fighting when they got to Gravity Falls, and he didn't want her tired from ferrying too many.

 

(It was an insult, to doubt that a dragon's strength was up to a task, to call it into question, but as it came from honest concern she let it go, as most did when it came from the Brightly Burning One and insults he accidentally made out of ignorance and care.)

 

The rest were coming close behind, some in rather mundane cars but far more using their own forms of transportation, and for once Hank didn't much care about the how so long as they all got there about the same time and _fast._

 

It was dark in town, the setting sun casting long shadows through the forest and between the buildings. But despite that, hardly any lights shone out of the town's windows, and the streets were deserted.

 

Even the members of the Dinner Crew who hadn't gone to meet Hank's family and see the site of the Transcendence while they were at it knew that wasn't normal for the town, and the stiff set of Hank's shoulders would have clued them in even if they hadn't.

 

Kiyo went in lower, intending to land on the road into town, and recoiled as she hit something solid in midair with a cry of pain.

 

Her riders clung on tight to anything they could grab, scale or cloth or limb, as the impact nearly sent them all flying.

 

Snarling softly, Kiyo skimmed over the town, lowering herself cautiously every few feet to test the invisible barrier.

 

It curved toward the ground at the border of the valley and she followed it down, landing on the road by the sign welcoming them to Gravity Falls.

 

Hank was sliding off her back almost before she'd landed, stumbling as he hit the ground and running toward the town line.

 

It felt like hitting a wall, one made of static electricity and something soft that he couldn't pass through, though it gave a little under his hand, sinking into it a few inches before he was stopped. Beside him, Lucy Ann gave it a hit, proving that to her, and the other magical creatures, it was solid as brickwork.

 

He took a few steps back, trying to see more of it and forcing himself not to panic and to think instead. Usually it was easiest for him, of all his family save his dad, to keep his head, but seeing this around his home...made it complicated.

 

The thing Kiyo had hit was some kind of shield, he could guess that much, only visible as a bit of a sparkle and a barely visible sheen in the air, and everything on the other side seemed to shimmer, like he was looking at it though a heat haze.

 

Toby poked at the wall on Lucy Ann's other side, Ben giving it a good kicking while Kiyo sniffed at it, everyone coming closer to either look at the near-invisible wall or talking to each other about what to do next, flagging down the cars that were starting to pull up on the road before they could hit the barrier.

 

Hank didn't want to think about just how many speed limits they must have broken to keep up with Kiyo. They'd worry about it later.

 

Then something hit Hank hard and solid as a punch to the gut, sending him to his knees. He gasped for air as the waves of panic rolled over him, barely hearing everyone around him freaking out as he let the waves of fear and pain wash over him.

 

As the pain and fear ebbed away until he couldn't feel anything but his own rising terror, he became aware of Vivi's hand on his shoulder, the asphalt gritting into his knees, and he looked up into Lucy Ann's worried eyes.

 

“We have to get in there,” he panted. “They're hurting them. My family,” he said when she looked confused, “I don't know how I know but they're hurting and it's bad, it's really really bad and they're scared and we have to get in there _now_.”

 

Lucy Ann and Vivi shared a look and a wince over Hank's head, and he huffed. “I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I felt,” he said. “They're hurting all of them, Uncle Dipper most of all, and we have to get in there _right now_.” The last words were growled out, Hank glaring at the barrier keeping him from his family.

 

Teena whipped up to whisper to Lucy Ann, who nodded shortly. “We aren't strong enough to break the barrier, but,” she said quickly before Hank could say anything, looking over his head (a feat she only just managed because he was still kneeling, hands braced on the ground), “I have a feeling that won't be a problem for long.”

 

Confused, Hank twisted, ignoring the grit digging into his knees, and gaped in speechless shock at the sight that met his eyes.

 

A thousand or more faces looked back at him, dozens of species and races and creatures coming up the road to Gravity Falls as the air filled with the buzzing and flapping of a hundred sets of wings, the stamp of hundreds of feet as they converged on Gravity Falls.

 

The Dinner Crew and Burning Brightly One had called for aid, and had been answered.

 

 

Willow threw herself against the door again, sending a new bolt of pain down her bruised shoulder. The door barely rattled in its frame from the impact, just a soft _thud_ and barely audible shake.

 

She slid down the door to sit on the floor, panting and forcing herself to rest before she had an asthma attack.

 

She'd lost it when Gideon – she remembered her mom's stories about him, and time hadn't changed him at all – had swung that...that _whip_ of his and hit her uncle with it and Uncle Dipper had made this...this _noise_ and his colors had gone pain red-orange-yellow while Gideon's were green and purple and gleeful and _malicious_. She'd burst into flames again like she hadn't since she was little, and this time they'd soaked her and dragged her off before she could burn the church down around them.

 

Yes she was thinking in italics and she knew she was but she didn't care. Uncle Dipper had always laughed off pain, even if it creeped Mom out, almost seemed to enjoy it, so she hadn't been too worried about their threats until he'd screamed.

 

She'd been furious before that, yes, that they'd laid a hand on any of them, that they were going to hurt Uncle Dipper even if it didn't bother him like it did humans but...Uncle Dipper never screamed like that. Not for _anything_. Not since the time Acacia had gotten him in the eyes with holy water by accident.

 

She'd already been so angry she'd been steadily losing her hold on the shield Uncle Dipper had taught her and been near blinded by the angry, hateful colors surrounding all of them (but that Gideon most of all), angry enough to draw on some of the lessons she'd almost wanted to forget to throw against them. Their treatment of her family, her town, that was bad enough, but that cross...that was way over the line. And then the whip...

 

Dammit, they were hurting her family and she was tied up and trapped in a broom closet!

 

She smacked her back against the door, grunting at the impact. Now she was far enough away could only just 'feel' them, and she avoided the sick spots that were Anthony and Gideon and the glee they were feeling...

 

She hated to do it, but with no other options, she felt out with her mind again. The least she could do was send out a bit of confusion, fear, and guilt among their enemies.

 

That, and hope everyone was going to be okay.

 

 

Nearly all of the cult members had been sent off, racing about town on one errand or another. Still, there were some remaining to keep an eye on the circle, the chains binding Dipper – and on Gideon, to make sure he didn't go too far.

 

Dipper knew they were there, but it was a peripheral knowledge, not important right now. Not as important as the worry over his family, over his town...and the pain that tried to override it all.

 

Pain had been...hilarious, mostly, since the Transcendence. He'd been burned, cut, a million different things and it could be dulled by the fact that his body was constructed by his will now, if he cared to, but physical touch was so rare even pain was welcomed. Hell, a lot of the time he _enjoyed_ the pain now.

 

But this was just too much. So long as he was bound here, with the constant burning of the chains and wires and bindings, this body was as good as his, would last, was real until he could get out of here, and they'd done something to that whip, had to have, for it to hurt the way it was. No mundane object could hurt like it was. It wasn't as bad as it would have been if he'd been human, he was sure of that, but it was quite bad enough as it was, to the point that he couldn't even enjoy it.

 

Besides, worry was keeping him human, even as his demon side raged, and that was the side that liked pain.

 

Combine the physical pain with the joy Gideon was getting from hurting him...that made him almost physically ill. Because Gideon _was_ enjoying this, every bit of pain they could force from him, that shouldn't have been possible but with the bindings and spells it was.

 

He nearly wished it _was_ enough to make him ill. Seeing everyone react to him going full exorcist (with the bonus of glittery barf) just might be worth it.

 

But more than that, he wanted to rip free and tear into them with fang and claw and fire, and there was a little voice encouraging him even as the bindings held it down, one he wasn't trying to ignore save to try and think he way out through the maze of bindings holding him down through the haze.

 

He tried to ignore it, to laugh it off and disturb them the way he'd done before – he'd had worse pain, and laughed it off, pushed through it, sometimes even enjoyed it, reveled in it if he'd been high on adrenaline or demonic glee when he fought, and for a while, he had, even enjoyed it a tiny (disturbed) bit, but this...this was constant, and deliberate, and he couldn't break free and he was scared.

 

He could barely feel the town outside, his family, his Flock going near frantic with worry (they'd bonded in ways no demon and their familiar ever had before, and his Flock knew he was hurting and in pain but they couldn't enter the church, not with all the extras Gideon and his cult had dragged in that kept out even the ones that would otherwise have tried it, and they were tearing and beating at the walls outside, terrifying the cultists who couldn't see them but could hear them, making the walls drip blood and slime in their panic over their Master) over the pain and fear.

 

Panting, Dipper focused on the bindings. The Alliance kept reinforcing them, constantly, but if he could just find a weakness, he could snap these chains like thread, shatter these bonds like nothing more than air and destroy them all before they could get to Willow... a swish and crack rent the air again, and he bit back a scream as fire snapped across his body.

 

Something trickled down his leg, and Dipper was fairly sure he was bleeding, and from more than one cut. Opening eyes he'd unconsciously clenched shut in concentration and against the pain, he glared at his tormentors.

 

“W̘̟ͨͤ̐͝h̛̲̃̆͗̀ả̞̯̥̹͉̤t̴̫̲̙̼ ̨̖̳͚̞͙̽͑ͥͯd̷̐̑͛̑̈ͅo̲̟͇̬̣̦͕ͭ̏ͩͣͨ̂͞ ͥ͒҉͎̤̰̯̹̤͖ỵ̰̮̌̾o͊ͦ̃̐̓ͨu̵̮͙͖̫̫ͅ ̝̲̬̱̂ͧ͋t̝͎͈͕̩̫͓̒ͥ͂̒̽ͩh̥̙̖̦̏ͣ͛ͯ̓͢i̡̜̹ͣ̉̆͐̂ͮn͊҉͎̯k̘̱̆̅̍ͣ ̙͆ͥ̿ͬ͆͞t̷̺̱̼̺̮̉́͊̈́̔̀h̹͇͎̱ỉ͖͓̱̥͘s̤̰̮͖͕̟͌͆ͣͪ̂̅͟ͅ ̲͔͖ͯ̆ͧ̇̈̎i̩̗̣̟̪̣ͪ̿̃͆̈́s̴͇͔̺ͩ ̖̱̞̼̟̯͛͑̃̽̋ͦg͚̯͓̻̠̺ͣͤo͍̩̟̻̹̩̺̍̉̑i͇͈͖ͧͣͅn̙̝͟g̡̹̣ͫ̑̃͛̌ͧ ͓̟͈̼͖̇̾ͦ͐ͅt̝̜̮̀ơ̑ͦͧ͂ͮͨͭ ͏̱͈c̋ͫͪḧ̥́ͩ͡a̘ͤ̒̒̋͋n̰͓̫͈̟̥͓ͬ͂̾̒g̷̣̮̥͓͓͙̈́̊̅ͬͮe͂̍͗͊ͧ̐ͫ?̢͉͙̙ͮ͒̔ͮ ” he demanded, several cultists turning to look (and a few jumping in surprise) as he broke his silence for the first time in what felt like hours. “Ǹ̖̙ͅo̫͍̫̗͚͖͓ͩn͉͖̙̩̖̣͑ͬ͞e͉̱̣̘̭ ͙̒ͮo͇̱͓͕̭̜͙͢f̖̰̑ͪ̈ͭ͠ ̜̘͇͙̖̀ͩt̤̩̥̓́h͖̟̪i̙̹̜̣͙ͭ̌̎ͩ̓̍̔s̜̫̙̈́͆̍̈̅ ̺̪̱̪͉̺͞ĭ̴̼̦̮̫̓͗̚s̮̜͚̥̪̻̗̆ͫ̂́̆ ̰̼ͬg̴̟̖̳͎̎̉̚õ̠̬ͨ̓̋i͚̜̗̳̐̇n̾ͧͫͫ̉̒͑g̬̖͖͆ ̤̮̘͇͈͗̔̌ť̴̫͇̪̺̋͌̅́ͅͅo̲̼̞̩̭̾̑͡ ̩̪̲̚͠u͍̦͇ͣ̃͋́̏̄ͩ̕n̜̟͔̞̭ͤ̈́ͅd̲̖̠̘ͦ͌̈́̍̌̏ͤȯ̖̮̲̜̦̻̯̇͋̐ ̱͙̮̝̝͙͇́̈t̜̳̮͗hͯe̟̹̔̋̓ ͑͑͒̽́̚T̲̯̳̠͖͕̍̎͜r̻͎̟̰̿̏̂a̱̮ͮ̑̑̊́̚n̿̏̆͏͚̱̙̪͇̙̺sͬ͌̊̆̽ͧc̘͉̙e̹̟̝̼̺͙ͯ͗̔ͧ̾̈n̟̼̗͚͠ͅḏ̠̦͑͗͒̃͑͟e̹̼̣̜̳̰̣ͫͣ̌͆̚ñ̽c̡̣͕̋̓̃ͭ̈̀e̼̣̯̺̥̦̐̅́͐͋ͦ.̖ ̳̯̔ͦ͐̐̕Y̜̥̝̩̳͊ͭ̇͋ͫ̀ͧ͠ơ̝̖̫̥̩̬̍ͯͣ͗̔ŭ͕̦̳̞̩̊̓ͦ͌͌ ̸̯̲̺͕̼̊çͣͦ̈́ͩ̓a̩̯̙̦͈͉ͧ̿ͯͤ̎nͬ̾̓͊̉͐̈́͠'̡̼̪̼̯̳̆t̩̹͕̻̞̼ͩ̾̏̎̾ͥͣ ̱̮̣͍ͅc̨̦͓̋ͨ͗̉͌ͅh̹̲͕̖̮a̴̗̙͓̞̟̦̘ͪ̆ͫͦn̦̦̮̠̙̫̞̑̀̽̎ͨ̒g͖̿ȇ̸͙̫̼̬̭̠̪̈̄ ̮͇̰͖̗͉̼t͙͉̩̥ͭ̑̄h̙͒̔ͪ̈́̏̀͑͘e̡̠̪̲͔̰̝ͭ͆ ̮̳̗̻̥̭̃̇̏p̒ͦ̋̂ͪͦ̾å̬̭̮̰͐s̜̰̥͖͎ͅt̶͓̟͔̦̫͓͉͆.̘̞̱͂ͩͦ ”

 

“We'll settle for cleansing the world of your kind,” Anthony replied levelly, as if the distortion of Dipper's voice wasn't making the walls shake and crack and his followers cringe.

 

Dipper snorted, inelegant and rude. “M͠a̛gic ̸wa͡ş ͡a̡roun͞d be͟fór̕e the T͜r̸a͝ns͏c̷e̵nd̶ençe̛,҉ ̷e̸v̢eryon̢e w̸as ͘jus͝t t́o͞o͢ b̛l̸i̢n̵d͟ t̵o see ̀i͘t̛,” he said dismissively, trying to sound calm and in control of the situation despite the throbbing of the welts they'd already left on him and the burning of the cross against his back, the chains biting into his skin and where the cuts left by the whip stung, the ones that had been splashed with holy water throbbing, each its own separate note of agony. “E̡v̀en͡ i͢f it͢ ̕was͜ p͞ossib͏l͝e ͡t̴o u̡ńd̷o͜ th̢e T̨ra̵n̸sc̵enḑenc̡e, w͝hich̕ i͢t'̵s̕ ͡not͢, mąg̴ic͠ ͢w͡ill ̵st̨il̴l ͢b̨e̕ ͞h̵e͝r̴e. ́Y͠o͏u ͝ju̡s͢t͟ w͟on͡'t be ͜able҉ ͜tò ҉see ̀it.́ ”

 

“That's good enough for us,” Anthony said, cutting off Gideon with a glare before the younger man could reply to Dipper's taunting tone. “And we will undo the Transcendence, with your help.”

 

Dipper made the rudest noise he knew, though with the demonic echo still coloring his voice it sounded more evil than dismissive. “Y̧ò̸͏ứ ̵͘ḩ͢a͢҉v̛҉͟e҉n̷̕҉'̢t̀ ̡̧͜g̶̵i͟v̷e̸͡n̶ ̴͟͡m͟e͟͝ ͏a͏̴̨ ̛ş̴in͢g͏̛͞l̛e͜͜ r̴̨e̵a͘͜s͠҉o͠͡n̴ t̶ǫ͟ ͘͡h͘ȩ̴͞lp͠͞ ́y̛o̴̢͞u̴̶,” he snarled, “án̸d͘̕ ̡a̧ ̨hu͟n҉͘d̵r͘e̛͢ḑ͡ w̵͜h̡̧҉y̕ ̧̕͘I҉̸'͢m̛͘͠ g͞o̵͡į͞n̨g̵͝ ͢҉͞t͏ǫ ͘͢r̸͟įp͜ ̵̧y͢o̶ú̶̡ aṕ̕á҉҉r̴t́ ͠a̸͜s͏͞ ́͜s҉ǫ͝on̴̛͢ ͡͠a̴s̨̡ I̴̧ ̸͟͜g̴et f͘͞ŗ́e̡͠ȩ̀͞.̛͢͝ N̢̛o̵̴͠ m̴attȩ̧r͠ ͘҉̷w͠h̷̀a̢t ̸yo̕͞ừ ́͠d͏o ̧͞t̛o͏̵ ͘͟͞m̸͡ȩ̶,̡ ͟Ì̸ ̵͡w̛͘͝i͏l̶̛l̢ s̴̨͘e̵̡ę͠ ҉ý͞͝o̴u̢ _p̕a̢y̢͢_ f̊͞ȏ̗̠̜̻̝̟̞͂͂͊̎ͧ̋r̴͎͙͎̰̥͕͋ͮ ̭̭̠̺̬ͬw̳͖̝̦͔̭̑͒͟h͇̼͠ͅa̭̮̼̲̣̼̞͠t͐ͪͬͥ͌҉͖̟̼̦̲̤ ̹͖͓̬̍͒̊̀̚͟ÿ̵̯̼̤̦́ͭ̋͑̅o͏̤̼̯̹̦̮ú͓̄̔̇ͬ'͇̿́́͜v̆̎ͧͥ̐͏̘͚̹̤̼̫eͯͤ́ ͋͗̔͆͌̄͒d̖̱̲o̩̓̈ͣ͊̆͞n͖̻̙̥̽ͤ͂͛̐͂̍e͋ ̱͉̉́t͎͕̲̪̖̯̆̅ͤ͆̒͢ö̱́ͭd̲̥͈̼̙͓̽̅̐̂a̿́̋ỳ̕.̸͌ .”

 

Anthony scowled and made a curt gesture at a cultist hovering attendance on him.

 

Seconds later there was leather in front of Dipper's face, straps over his head and cheeks too quickly for him to dodge, and the flames that had flickered out roared back into life as he fought to free his head, twisting and clenching his mouth shut against the bit they tried to force into his mouth.

 

There was another crack of the whip, followed by a splash of holy water against the welt, and he couldn't stop the gasp it forced from him.

 

He struggled and cursed as that moment opened his mouth enough for the metal bit to be forced into his mouth and a solid piece of leather strapped into place over it, covering his mouth and cheeks and under his chin, forcing his jaw closed, his teeth digging into the bit and the harsh taste of leather and metal filling his mouth, straps tightening until it couldn't go any tighter and wouldn't move despite his increasingly furious and frightened fighting.

 

“Ya'll don't need to be willing to help us, we just gotta make sure ya'll can't stop us,” Gideon gloated, stepping closer. “That's a good look for ya, I think I like ya'll better when you're quiet.”

 

“We don't need your cooperation,” Anthony agreed, “merely your power, and if that means nothing more than you being unable to fight then so be it. I have more that needs done before dawn,” he said to Gideon. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, so I'll leave you to it. He's still too defiant, and too close to breaking free for my tastes. See if you can't convince him to be a bit more...cooperative, won't you?”

 

 

Lucy Ann was vaguely surprised Hank hadn't worn a groove into the asphalt yet.

 

He'd started pacing soon after the help had arrived and started trying to find a way into Gravity Falls, getting angrier by the minute.

 

Most people forgot that Hank had a temper just as hot as the rest of his family, he was so kind and nice and calm all the time – until someone hurt someone he cared about.

 

Lucy Ann remembered quite well what had happened the last time someone had made Hank this angry, and she was rather looking forward to what would happen when they found whoever was hurting Hank's family. They'd have it coming, that was for sure.

 

No one who cut off a town like Gravity Falls from the rest of the world had anything good in mind.

 

In the background, every magic user that had shown up at the border was inspecting the shield blocking them from town, sending up sparks or shimmers across the vague rainbow haze as they tested it and tried out various ideas to bring it down or make some kind of opening.

 

The closer it got to dawn, the faster Hank paced, and the more worried they all grew, vaguely sure that time was running out unless they could get in there.

 

Then, as the sun began to rise, the shield began to shimmer and blink in and out of existence under their concentrated power, and the watchers dared to start to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, little nervous about this one. Things are gettin' heavy now.


	6. Chapter 6

Mabel had passed 'pissed off' a few miles back and now was seething, occasionally tugging at her bonds. Bad enough these wacknuts had probably ruined her sweater – it was a cult thing, she'd lost more sweaters to that then she wanted to remember – and that they'd threatened her to make her bro-bro listen to them, but they'd threatened her kids!

 

Okay, four out of five (because Reina was so one of hers now) since Hank and Vivi (who was also now hers) were still safe in Portland, but that was low. And as soon as any of the Pines got free, they were going to pay for that.

 

She hadn't seen or heard anything from Dipper or Willow in hours, and she was pretty sure by this point it wasn't just because she and Henry and the other kids were being threatened.

 

The link between her and Dipper went both ways, even if it wasn't as strong from him to her she could still feel him, and he was _scared_. Dipper wasn't supposed to be scared, he was too powerful for that and still her dorky brother and she was the only one allowed to terrorize him!

 

Okay, Stan and her husband and the kids could, but they were family. Oh, and Wendy and Paz and Soos, but they were pretty much family. So only family was allowed. Not these...religious fanatic _nutjobs_.

 

And especially not Gideon. _Fucking Gideon._

 

On top of that, she was exhausted, and she was pretty sure everyone else was too, after spending the night tied to these uncomfortable chairs, and she had no clue where they'd found the huge, heavy things, but she had a bad feeling about them...and about what they were doing inside that church.

 

Henry definitely was having similar thoughts, and she'd never seen him this mad, not even the time the kids had convinced Dipper to try Smile Dip and they'd turned the entire Shack inside out – literally.

 

Dawn was starting to paint the sky when Gideon swaggered out of the church the cult – she didn't care what they called themselves, these people that had taken over  _her_ town and were following Gideon and his little friend were all cultists in her book – had trapped Dipper in earlier and had been in all night, lower level members scurrying in and out as the hours passed.

 

Two of his biggest goons followed behind, half dragging Willow out of the church, and Mabel gritted her teeth against fresh rage. Her daughter looked exhausted and ragged, still fighting if weakly.

 

Gideon started snapping orders to the guards who'd been watching over them the last few hours, demanding that the chairs Mabel and the rest of her family were tied to be set up in a particular order and position.

 

The chairs, heavy affairs of wood and iron and leather straps, were arranged (slowly, and with much panting, scraping, and grunting, and much jerking of the people in said chairs) into a semi circle in the town square, facing a platform Gideon's followers had been busy constructing all night. Well, that explained all the noise earlier.

 

Mabel tried to think heavy thoughts each time they moved her chair.

 

Willow was tied to her Grunkle's chair, and Mabel could see him whispering to her youngest, too far away to make out the words but close enough to see that, apart from torn up wrists and an obvious lack of sleep, Willow seemed unharmed...exhausted, desperate, and distraught, but mostly unharmed. One small thing to be grateful for, in all this mess.

 

Her youngest nodded to her G-grunkle and closed her eyes. A frown crossed her face, teeth clenching in concentration.

 

The cultists who'd been moving them hurried off to move other things and fussing with some kind of setup as soon as Mabel was in place rather than get in Gideon's way as he strutted over towards her, obviously trying to look suave and confident. It didn't work. The suit that made Dipper look professional and dapper made Gideon look like a child playing dress up, and it was coated with dust and sweat and specks of blood from the day before that showed up like bruises against the powder blue, making it worse.

 

He braced his hand on the back of Mabel's chair and leaned over her, ignoring her families' varied (and inventive) insults and demands that he get away from her. He smiled, victorious and seductive, or as seductive as Gideon could try to be, and Mabel had to bite back from puking all over him.

 

She might get some on her sweater, and she still might be able to salvage it later if she didn't puke all over it. Raising triplets meant she'd washed enough puke-stained clothes for one lifetime already thank you.

 

“Bet'cha wish ya'll had taken me up on my offer to be my queen now, don't ya Mabel honey?” Gideon leered, leaning into Mabel's personal space. “Maybe you'll reconsider once everything's been...taken care of.”

 

“You are, and always have been, a buttface!” Mabel snapped, falling back on her default insult when it came to Gideon. “And you'd better not have hurt my brother! Just you wait 'til one of us gets loose and we're all gonna open a can of whoopass on all of you! And if you hurt my brother or my family,” she added in a quiet voice, the deathly serious, cold one she used on cult bashing with her brother when they'd made her mad, “you'll wish Dipper had gotten to you first.”

 

Gideon blanched, recoiling back before he recovered, snarling and raising his hand. Mabel braced herself for a blow even as her children yelled more invectives at Gideon. He paused and stared at her, Mabel matching his glare until he faltered and lowered the hand, muttering to himself as he turned and stalked away, and Mabel tuned him out.

 

She got a good look at Henry then and almost wished Gideon  _had_ hit her. Henry, who was always so calm, so cool and collected, looked like he was nearly ready to turn into The Woodsman and take Gideon out. And Mabel would've had a front row seat.

 

It wasn't easy to make happen when he didn't have Dipper around to draw on, and if Dipper was hurt (and she was pretty sure her bro was hurting, she could feel it like a faint throbbing of remembered pain even though she was also pretty sure he was trying to shield her from whatever was happening to him right now) then it was going to be harder, but one more thing and it wasn't going to matter just how hard it was, Henry was going full Woodsman on them.

 

Mabel was almost looking forward to it. It would be almost as good as taking Gideon out herself.

 

The goons were beginning to lead the other residents of Gravity Falls out of the community center and herd them towards the town square, inside a barrier of wooden horses they'd set up around the perimeter and manned with guards next to cramped cages holding miserable, furious, and pained looking creatures from the forest, whose conditions started more angry muttering to go through the crowd.

 

Wendy was under heavy guard, her own set unlike the others, and one look told Mabel it wasn't just because they'd recognized her. She and Henry nodded at each other, message clear – they hadn't found _all_ her weapons, and as soon as things started to go down, well, _this_ branch of the Corduroy clan had each other's backs.

 

Mabel, meanwhile, caught Candy and Grenda's eyes, and got short, angry nods in return. Soos and Melody, clutching each other near the edge of the crowd and surrounded by their kids, gave short nods as well, and Robbie punched his fist while Tambry scowled, the two fading into the crowd to start spreading the word to everyone else. They were ready to move when she signaled, no matter the cost anymore. Everyone else would follow their lead.

 

Then all else was forgotten for the moment as the rest of the goons began setting something up around the platform and the complex circles dug into the ground, filling them with salt and holy water, sage and crystals and a dozen other things meant to purify as another group wheeled something from the church and up into the platform, something tall and covered with a cloth.

 

Looked like showtime was about to start.

 

 

The leader of the  Anti-Transcendence groups climbed the stairs solemnly and stepped to the edge of the platform, raising his hands as though to quell applause. 

 

Mabel was never prouder of her town than she was at that moment as they booed and catcalled instead.

 

“We understand that you believe us to the in the wrong in this endeavor,” the leader said, ignoring the snarling crowd with ease. “But once the magic that has been forced onto us all has been cleansed from this world your eyes will be opened to the evil that you were blind to before, the forces you accept monsters and evil as though they were somehow natural and your equals even as they pollute the purity of our world.”

 

“That's what this is about?” Acacia burst out angrily. “You're destroying everything because you're bunch of bigoted crybabies who can't handle not being top dog anymore? Seriously?”

 

The cultists guarding the Pines shifted uncomfortably, looking up at their leaders for how to respond, while the Gravity Falls residents shouted agreement and encouragement.

 

The man on the platform smiled pityingly, as if Acacia were a wayward child. “It doesn't matter now what you all think of us. We have all we need to complete our ritual, including the power source for all our magic and more creatures to drain should we need them. And after all, what better source to power our solution to fix them all than the thing that caused all our problems in the first place?”

 

Mabel saw red as they pulled the cloth off the object they'd wheeled out of the church, so angry the outraged cries of the townspeople were little more than white noise to her ears.

 

A giant cross, with her brother tied to it, chained to it somehow, sagging against the chains holding him against the wood, bright gold blood dripping from his torn and abused wrists to splatter against the platform so far below him, his feet a good foot off the ground, chain wrapped around his arms and legs and crossing his chest, holding him tight against the wood. There were even chains wrapping around his wings, keeping them bound in tight, unable to do more than twitch, streaked with more blood and hanging limp in their bindings.

 

More than the chains held him to the cross, she realized seconds later, barely able to see the rest of the bindings but making them out against his skin where they'd torn through his clothes in spots – sharp, thin silver wire, so tight it was digging into his skin, deep enough in spots he was bleeding still, sluggishly. Charms and amulets were hung from the wire and chains all over his body, ones that wouldn't bother him on a normal day but had to be burning him now, when he was already obviously weakened and hurting.

 

His suit was torn and ragged and soaked, the exposed skin red and welted and bruised, as if he'd been beaten and then doused in holy water.

 

There was something leather covering the lower half of his face, and the wood of Mabel's chair creaked dangerously as she realized it was more than a gag, it was a  _muzzle_ , as if her beloved twin was some kind of rabid animal.

 

His eyes were closed, but there was a golden glitter on his face that said that he'd been crying at some point during the evening.

 

Still ignoring the crowd, the shift in the air that had gone from irritated and angry to downright murderous, Anthony called out, “Let us begin!”

 

Raising his arms, he began to chant along with the rest of his cult, their voices rising in unison over the townfolk's cries.

 

 

From his spot on the platform, Gideon smirked down at them, confident in victory and his utter destruction of the Pines family, gloating, almost reveling in the state of Mabel's brother and their helplessness, immune to the chanting around him.

 

“Like it, Mabel honey? Your brother looks real pretty like this, don't he?” Gideon called down mockingly. “Been waiting to do that for a long time, an' I tell ya, hon, it felt _real_ good.”

 

There was a roar that shook the ground, throwing everyone into shocked silence, and Mabel had a few seconds to appreciate the absolute disbelief and horror on Gideon's face as wood and metal shrieked, parting company seconds before The Woodsman launched himself at Gideon, burning with blue fire.

 

Gideon shrieked, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled away from the vicious swing of Henry's axe. It bit into the wood of the platform where Gideon had stood moments before, and The Woodsman wrenched it free, the bottomless black pits of his eyes burning with vicious anger as he stepped up onto the platform, its height no problem to his now inhumanly long legs.

 

The wood sprouting from his arms and legs burned with blue fire, the spikes of it jutting from his back sharper than ever. The hands that dangled from the antlers, bone white and huge, spiraling from his head, reached towards Gideon, Anthony, and the cultists, as if hungry for their hands to join them as more grisly decorations.

 

For once, the unflappable Anthony was visibly startled, stepping back and away from The Woodsman's glowing eyes. “What type of monster are you?” he cried. “Keep chanting, louder! Before this abomination can stop us!”

 

The chant started up again, louder and more frantic as the axe swung towards Gideon, and the lines dug into the ground began to glow, brightening with every word.

 

Up on the platform, the lines around the cross lit up with blue fire, and Dipper _screamed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...does this mean I get to keep the 'Evil Author' tiara I earned in the ROTG fandom? And am I banished to the corner?


	7. Chapter 7

Dipper was screaming.

 

Mabel fought against the straps on her chair, leather digging into her skin until she bled, her family fighting as hard as she against their bonds. Even as they fought the townspeople surged against the barrier, taking it down with sheer numbers and swarming over the shocked cultists who swung to respond. Up on the platform, The Woodsman's axe missed Gideon by a hairsbreadth, all spurred to action in protective fury.

 

Dipper was screaming.

 

Mabel felt the strap over her right wrist give as someone reached her chair, a knife snapping the last strands holding it to the chair before the surging crowd pulled them away, the voices of the cultists still able to chant rising as the armed ones fought to keep the crowd from the chanters, the lights of the outer circle merging with the light pouring from the cross and circle holding her brother.

 

Dipper was _screaming_.

 

No matter what else happened, Mabel's mind kept focusing on that one fact, that one sound over the rest. The screams were muffled and desperate, and Dipper had only sounded like that once before, one horrible, terrible day when Mabel had nearly lost him forever and _she was not going to let that happen again she was not going to lose him not now not like this they couldn't have her brother!_

 

 

On the platform, cultists were trying to block Henry from getting close to the circle and cross around his brother, and the wood was streaked with their blood, but still he hadn't gotten close enough to cut Dipper free. The small part that was still Henry wasn't sure the axe could cut through the chains, but the cross itself was wood and it could come down and out of that circle if they would just _stop getting in his way so he could figure out how._

 

 

Dipper thrashed against the chains holding him to the cross, unable to stop screaming. The spell was draining power from him, building it up in the lines and circles around him to a pressure he could feel, just like he could feel the power bleeding from him, like blood from a wound and it hurt oh god it hurt someone make it stop please _make it stop_!

 

It felt like his very essence was being drained away, slowly and painfully pulled out of his body without so much as a by-your-leave, even as the circles and spells binding him pressed down painfully on him from every side, crushing and unrelenting, power building up outside as his power was added to the circles and something was going to have to give sooner or later. Like he was being torn in two, soul from body, demon from human.

 

He could hear everyone screaming, the sounds of fighting and chaos even though he couldn't see them over the blinding light surrounding him, and he fought harder, feeling metal and magic bite into already painful wounds as he struggled, threatening to give if he could just bear a little more, fight a little harder. He couldn't let them down, not now, couldn't let Gideon win!

 

 

Dipper's first scream was enough to pull the strongest of the Flock onto the physical plane, loyalty to the only demon that ever gave a real damn about them giving them the strength to take on solid form in his defense, and even the residents of Gravity Falls were taken aback for a few crucial moments when they appeared, black wool and horns and eyes glowing with rage, razor sharp hooves and fangs and leathery wings dispersed throughout the Flock. Yes, they'd seen them before, when they'd been playing, but never like _this_. Never angry and vengeful and fully, unmistakably demonic.

 

The Flock reared up and let loose a _B̶̧̥̦̥ͥ̉́̊̃̀A̬̤̱̓̈́̀A̵͎̹̰̦̣̠̩ͭͩ̓Ả̧̡̻̪̟̟͎A͔̮̣̜̽̂̏͆̚͘͝_ that shook the town before barreling into the fight.

 

 

The last strap on her chair finally gave way and two of the Flock reached Mabel as she rocketed out of her chair, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste. There was enough blood already on the ground she didn't bother pricking her own finger, stooping and dunking her ring in a splash of it to summon her glass and nail studded bat to hand as she ran toward her kids, they and Stan already surrounded by more of Dipper's sheep.

 

Thompson ran past, screaming, with two cultists close on his heels, and Mabel took a second to take them both out, barely breaking her stride before skidding to Reina, her sheep close on her heels.

 

Stan was already free, covering Acacia alongside the Flock as she freed her wife, ripping at the straps. Mabel slammed her bat into a cultist that came running at them, and Acacia got the last strap undone.

 

They all exchanged brief nods, no words necessary before Mabel started to force her way to the platform where the spell was still going, powered by her brother and the chants the cultists had begun before all hell broke loose. Whatever the spell was, it was clearly unstable now, power whipping towards the sky and sparking like live electrical wires, uncontrolled and growing – but Mabel knew of one way to stop it, one she was going to do whether it stopped the spell or not.

 

One way or another she was getting her brother off that cross, no matter who or what got in her way.

 

 

Out in the crowd, Wendy took down her guards with a simultaneous kick to the gut and punch to the face, twisting to catch the axe Candy threw to her. It left glowing blue lines in the air as she swung, and cultists threw themselves out of her way.

 

Candy drew yet more weapons out of thin air (a deal, like Mabel's, with Dipper, that had come in handy before now) and if they hadn't been in the middle of fighting for their lives it would have been hilarious to watch the armed cultists, who just minutes ago had had everything in their power, fleeing in terror from the tiny woman.

 

Grenda thundered past in pursuit of a pair of cultists that had taken exception to the animals in her store. She grabbed them by the back of their robes, throwing them to the ground and body slamming on top of them before springing up with a crow of victory, leaving them moaning on the ground.

 

Grinning, she and Candy swung around each other, taking out more cultists on the turn, before laughing and running into the crowd side by side to back Wendy up.

 

Wendy spun to face them, the axe stopping just in time, before the trio shared a set of evil grins and set upon the cultists who'd invaded their town like a force of nature.

 

 

Gideon was still dodging Henry's axe, scuttling around the platform like a small frightened animal, blocked from escape by the Flock closely ringing the wood structure but unable to get up on it, its circles and spells strong enough to keep them from reaching the top while letting them close enough to keep everyone else from leaving.

 

The remaining cultists within the ring still able to move kept getting in Henry's way as he tried for Anthony or Gideon – mostly Gideon or the cross his brother was tied to – and they were paying for it, but it wasn't appeasing the Woodsman.

 

Dipper was screaming, and that fact kept interfering with everything else, even the hunger to punish the ones responsible.

 

_Save his family. Save his saplings. Save his brother. Stop the outsiders, they were hurting his soul brother and he had to stop it they had to be all right, had to save his bright bright star (his fire was flickering, that too bright fire barely contained in earthly flesh was being pulled away and it was hurting his star, hurting him so so badly, had to **save him** ) then make them **suffer** , make them **pay**_ **,** _for hurting his saplings his star his other half..._

 

His axe embedded itself in the wood of the stage again and Gideon scrabbled against the wood like an insect, squealing in fear, to get away.

 

It only made the Woodsman contempt him, and his partner, who tried to fling holy water, iron, anything cleansing he could get his hands on at the Woodsman, to try and keep him away from Dipper and save his own skin. They were willing enough to torture those who couldn't fight back, they could at least try harder to protect themselves or have a little dignity when someone fought back!

 

The Woodsman wrenched his axe free, crouching to take on the last cultists who seemed unsure what to do (there was nowhere to flee, and they weren't sure anymore that the weapons they had would do any good. The sage and spells, holy water and iron certainly weren't making the creature that had been Henry Pines slow down, let alone stop.)

 

Before the brief standoff could be ended the air was rent with an earth shattering roar of challenge, and resident and cultist alike faltered to look to the sky, the chaos that was Gravity Falls going still.

 

In that silence, the sound of Kiyo landing was louder than a thunderclap, shaking the earth with its force, and she was striking out at cultists almost before she'd fully landed.

 

Then her eyes lit on the platform and everyone knew the exact the moment she saw Dipper, her roar this time one of sheer rage, echoed by the supplanted Dinner Crew as they poured into the valley and into the battle and as one saw the gruesome spectacle that had so enraged the dragon.

 

From the forests poured more, the Multibear in the lead, as the shattering of the shield around the valley shattered the one keeping them trapped to the forest.

 

They hit the battle like a tidal wave, and the chaos turned in their favor, but still the circles glowed, powered by a steadily weakening Dipper.

 

Kiyo roared again in fury, her claws digging deep, deep gouges into the circles that had been so painstakingly carved into the ground and deliberately destroying them, sending up sprays of salt and crystals and sparks as the circles flickered and died under her vengeful claws like cut electrical lines.

 

She reared up at the edge of the platform, behind the still furious Flock, roar dying to a constant, enraged snarl that rattled the bones even as the last cultist trying to defend Gideon and Anthony fell to their knees, screaming with pain, under the Woodsman's axe. Her claws dug into the circle keeping the Flock off the platform, and it died with another shower of sparks even as the Flock stormed the top with a triumphant cry.

 

With a last flare the spells died, a last burst of light and power as the chant staggered off and died, the power no longer directed into them breaking free in a final rush toward the sky in a pyrotechnic display to rival the best of fireworks.

 

 

Hank hesitated on the edge of the battlefield the center of his hometown had turned into, scanning the crowd.

 

He could see his sisters and Grunkle fighting in the midst of everything, backed by his uncle's sheep, while his mother was fighting her way towards the platform that...that...his eyes saw his uncle, the blood and the bruises and the welts and the cross, and felt the bottom fall out of his world.

 

He was moving before he'd realized what he'd chosen what to do, shock giving way to rage as he flew into the fight without thinking, hearing but not registering Lucy Ann's curse or Vivi's snarl as they followed in his wake.

 

Vivi gave a sharp whistle and Toby stomped through the crowd to her – an easier task for him than the others, since the cultists weren't really prepared for trolls.

 

Almost everything else, it seemed, but not troll. The weapons they had, though effective against everything up to manotaur, bounced off Toby like they'd fired against rock, throwing up sparks when they ricocheted off Toby as he shoved his way to the trio, planting himself in front of them before striding towards the platform, following Vivi's finger and speeding up when he caught sight of the chaos she pointed to.

 

Cultist and Faller alike scrambled out of Toby's way as he pushed through the fighting, though he chucked the cultists aside, gripping them in huge hands and carelessly tossing them while moving around residents. Hank fell in close behind him, in the open space left in his wake. Lucy Ann gave up after a few feet and clambered up Toby like a mobile tree, baring her fangs and hissing when she got her own good view of the platform and just what was on it.

 

 

No matter how many cultists Mabel took down, there always seemed to be one more in her way, blocking her path to her brother.

 

Over the sounds of fighting she could hear roaring, different from Kiyo's, and out of the crowd strode the Multibear, flinging cultists aside like dolls as he lumbered through the crowd.

 

If she stared blankly for a few precious seconds when he paused next to her and crouched, well, it had been a very long day.

 

“Come, fierce one,” he rumbled when she hesitated. “The warrior needs us.”

 

He hadn't finished speaking before Mabel was on his back, roaring as loudly as the Multibear as he cleared a path.

 

Mabel reached the platform and scrambled onto it from the Multibear's back even as the Flock flowed around them like a woolly, fiery sea, pausing beside her husband as the Woodsman stood over a crying Gideon and silent, pale Anthony, who were watching that axe that hovered overhead in pants-wetting terror, gripping her bat tight and tempted for a moment to use it on the pair cowering in front of them before leaving them to her husband. Until she got him down, Dipper was more important than they ever could be. Henry could handle them until then.

 

The Woodsman, for his part, was looking between them and Dipper. Dipper had stopped screaming when the last of the circles had flickered out of existence and hung from the cross terrifyingly limp, and the Woodsman wasn't sure what to do.

 

His axe might not be able to cut through the chain, and if he just cut down the cross then he risked hurting his star more in the fall and that was not acceptable, and if he moved away these two could get away but they'd hurt more than just him and his star his saplings his family the ones they hurt should be able to say what happened to them so now what did he do?

 

Then his other half was there, yelling for cutters and climbing the cross like a tree, using chain and wood alike to climb, making the decision for him. She would fetch their star, and he would hold these two until then.

 

 

Mabel heaved herself up the last foot, coming face to face with her brother. She yelled down again for someone to _hurry up with the damn chain cutters already_ even as she braced herself against the cross, looping on arm over a bar to brace herself and free a hand to touch her brother's face.

 

“Bro, wake up,” she pleaded, cupping his cheek and giving his head a little shake when he didn't respond. “C'mon, please, you can't let them win, this can't be enough to take out the great and powerful Alcor,” she added, not bothering to keep the fear from her voice, trying to tease him awake.

 

Unable to take it anymore, she fought with the muzzle one handed, hissing each time it dug into her brother's face and more and more ready to take Henry's axe to Gideon herself for what he'd done. It was too tight for her to get it off without hurting him, despite how hard she tried not to, and her vision went red at the edges for a brief moment when she saw the gag hidden under the muzzle.

 

Wasn't it enough that they'd muzzled him, they had to gag him, too?

 

She dropped the foul thing as soon as it was loose, pitching it to the ground in fury. Her brother's face was smeared with gold where the metal bit had dug into the corners of his mouth, still slack as she cupped his cheek in her hand and raised it to look at him.

 

“Where are those damn cutters?” she yelled down, “Hurry! C'mon, Dipper, _wake up!_ ”

 

 

Hank reached the edge of the platform as the muzzle hit the wood, pushing through the Flock along with the rest of the family.

 

Aunt Grenda was shoving her way through the crowd with a set of chain cutters as his mom screamed for them to help her, and Hank shared nods with his sisters just before they sprang into action.

 

Kiyo moved to hover over the men Hank's dad was glaring at, still wrapped around the platform as far as she could as more of the Dinner Crew drew close to circle them, joining the Flock. A few of them (along with a couple of sheep, and headed by Ben, who was looking suspiciously proud of himself) climbed the platform to stand guard over the pair who'd caused them all so much suffering.

 

Sure the pair weren't going anywhere, Hank grabbed his dad's sleeve.

 

“Dad, c'mon, we need you,” he said, tugging until his father turned, reluctantly. “Toby, brace that thing! Mom, you'd better get down. Dad, cut it down,” he said firmly.

 

The Woodsman hesitated as Mabel reluctantly dropped to the ground and gave Grenda a hand up to join them, ignoring the stairs (as, honestly, they all had).

 

Then the flyers of the Dinner Crew surrounded Dipper, gripping both he and the cross, supporting him as Toby grabbed the cross and Dipper's waist in his huge hands, holding both steady. The Woodsman took a deep breath and raised his axe.

 

What little noise that had still filled the square now that the cult was almost entirely subdued by the supplemented Gravity Fallers died away as the first stroke of axe against wood rang out.

 

Toby held the cross still and steady, so not a jolt shook Dipper, who was still limp and unresponsive. Henry's axe was eternally razor sharp, and now that he was sure he wasn't going to hurt Dipper he let it fly. Wood flew as he attacked the cross with all the anger that had built up over the last twenty four hours, and Vivi automatically shielded Lucy Ann from it.

 

The wood cracked sharply, sagging into Toby's arms as it finally gave, and they lowered it, Dipper, chains, cross and all to the platform, everyone moving back to give them room.

 

The Woodsman retreated as Grenda got to work with her chain cutters, and Henry knelt by his brother and wife, his arm around Mabel, stroking Dipper's hair with his free hand.

 

The chains were strong, but Grenda was stronger, and they gave way under her determined force. Even trying to be careful as she was not to pull them tighter, they were tight enough that she was still occasionally scraping or scratching Dipper with the cutters or making them dig in despite all her efforts.

 

Finally the last chain and wire came free, rattling onto the stage. Mabel didn't waste a second to start trying to pull her brother off the cross.

 

He was limp and heavy, and Henry gently scooted Mabel out of the way before she could hurt her brother by accident so he could slip his arms under Dipper's back and knees, picking him up gently off the cross.

 

When he turned away there were already several coats and other bits of clothing lying on the platform as an impromptu bed, a sight better than the bare wood, and Henry laid his still unresponsive brother on it gently.

 

Henry tried not to show it, but for the first time in a long while he was worried for his brother's physical health more than mental. Dipper was too limp and quiet, like he was...like he was dead, and he'd never acted like this before, no matter what they'd been through he'd never...

 

Mabel collapsed onto the platform, drawing Dipper's head into her lap, and cried as he lay there, still and pale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves from the corner* I did warn you last week about the 'evil author' thing...
> 
> (I swear it's like I can only write silly happy fluff or _this_...)


	8. Chapter 8

Mabel was crying silently over her brother's body, the tears trailing over her cheeks to drip onto his face, exhaustion finally catching up to her and leaving her unable to do much more than curl around him and sob.

 

Around them, the town of Gravity Falls and the augmented Dinner Crew began to clean up, herding the beaten, bruised, and mostly silent cultists into the cages they'd held the denizens of the forest in, while others began to see to the wounded. They kept glancing up at the platform where the Pines crowded around Dipper in worry, some of them crying and wanting so badly to know if Dipper was all right, but not quite willing to push themselves into the family's moment.

 

A few of the braver ones ventured into the church to see what needed done there to clean up the damage the cult had done and, with cries of shock and anger, began to bring out those killed, to lay them out with what dignity they could.

 

Up on the platform, Gideon tried to take advantage of everyone's distraction to escape and was nearly skewered by Kiyo's claws for his pains. Anthony lay trapped in her claws beside him, glaring at everyone and grinding his teeth in anger. Each time he opened his mouth to speak, Ben swooped in to give him another kick, and for his tiny size his kicks were surprisingly effective (and painful).

 

 

Henry knelt by his wife, picking up his brother's limp hand and squeezing it, his other hand finding its way into his brother's hair, stroking it as he did so often, uncaring of the tears streaming down his own face.

 

Dipper couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. If...if he were, wouldn't he have faded into the Mindscape by now? Or just...have faded away, completely? He was a _demon_ , surely...surely whatever they did wasn't enough, after everything else he'd been through.

 

It was weak reasoning, but it was better than the alternative. _Anything_ was better than the alternative.

 

Mabel was still crying, whispering “No no no, bro-bro you gotta wake up, please please wake up,” over and over softly, and Henry was dully surprised she wasn't shaking Dipper and screaming for him to wake up yet.

 

 

Dipper wasn't quite sure what was going on.

 

He remembered pain, the ripping and tearing pain that went down to his soul, tearing him in two as his power was torn from him, demon and human alike.

 

He felt raw, inside, like he'd been hollowed out and the open wound scrubbed with something rough and unforgiving.

 

It was tempting, so very tempting, to just let the blackness swallow him, retreat into the Mindscape, curl up with his Flock and hide away.

 

Something was keeping him from doing that, though he wasn't sure what. It was something so very, very important, and he had to stay physical as long as he could, he had to wake up...if he could just remember _why_.

 

Someone was shaking him, gently, and there was something wet on his face, something in his hair and holding his hand and they were part of whatever was keeping him here but nothing was connecting. It was so hard to think right now, with exhaustion dragging him down, to heavy to even be able to wonder why he was fighting.

 

The bindings that had kept him here, on the physical plane, earlier, were fading, and it would be so, so much easier to slip into the Mindscape...and if he didn't make a deal for more time, he may not have a choice, soon. He was just so tired, too tired to stay corporeal...

 

Even as he tried to keep a hold on his physical form he could feel it slipping away, along with the last vague dregs of consciousness, and this time, he let it.

 

 

Henry didn't notice at first when his brother slipped into the Mindscape – ever since the first 'Woodsman' incident, he'd been able to see and hear Dipper as easily as Mabel ever could, in the Mindscape or physical – didn't notice at all until Mindy began to wail. He only noticed in a worried moment when Dipper slipped into his twelve year old form – something he only did when he was too exhausted to hold onto his adult form (very, very rare) or wanted to mess with someone (much more often).

 

The little girl turned fire pixie buried her face in Hank's shirt, sobbing, as the rest of those on the platform that couldn't see Dipper when he retreated to the Mindscape stared at Mabel's (seemingly) empty lap, as if they could will Dipper to reappear and _be okay_.

 

Acacia sank to her knees beside her uncle, flanked by her siblings and with her wife at her back, clutching at Acacia's shirt so tightly it looked ready to rip. Hank looked up at their dad, the crying Mindy still held close, Vivi clutching his shirt, eyes searching the area she knew Dipper had to be even if she couldn't see him.

 

“Uncle Dipper's gonna be all right, right, Dad?” Hank asked quietly, turning tearful eyes on his father. Acacia and Willow looked at him, the same desperate, pleading looks on their faces, and for a second it was like being taken back in time, seeing three tiny little redheads pleading with their father to please just make everything be okay.

 

The problem was, this time their dad wasn't sure how to answer them, and it showed in his face despite all he could try to hide it.

 

“He...he probably needs some rest,” Henry said, hand never stopping its stroking over the still surprisingly soft hair under his hand. “We don't know everything that happened last night, but it can't...can't have been good,” he faltered. Willow, he was fairly sure, had a better idea than most of them, and she was crying silently, hands pressed to her mouth as she pressed as close as she dared to her uncle. “He's...he's a demon. And he's always been stubborn.”

 

Mabel scrubbed almost angrily at her face with the sleeve of her sweater as Stan finally made it up the platform and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Your husband's right, sweetie. Your brother's too stubborn for his own good. He needs to sleep more anyway.”

 

She snorted at that, though it was weak and watery. “Yeah,” she agreed, hands gently stroking down her brother's jacket, straightening it absently and fingering the rips. “Dork never...never sleeps enough.”

 

Henry squeezed her hand and they exchanged glances. Unsaid in that look was how worried they were about Dipper right now – yet reassured that his wounds were fading now that he was in the Mindscape, released from the physical body that had sustained the damage.

 

The fact that the wounds had stayed after Dipper retreated into the Mindscape was worrying on its own, since even when he came home covered in blood the wounds had always disappeared as soon as he hit the Mindscape, even when he was exhausted and had to rest there for days – and still he hadn't woken.

 

 

Lucy Ann patted Hank's arm sympathetically, making him start. “I'll get the Crew to start taking care of things,” she said, “They've got things pretty well in hand already. What'd ya want us to do with them?” she asked, poking a thumb towards first the cultists still being herded into cages, then towards the pair Kiyo shook lightly for emphasis.

 

Hank's eyes went hard as he looked over at the pair, one who'd threatened their family time and again (though he hadn't seen it, he'd heard his mom the few times Gideon's name had come up, seen how both his uncle and g-grunkle reacted to the name) and the other who'd come here, to the one town where his friends and family were safe without question, and taken that from them out of hatred and spite.

 

“Find somewhere to hold them for now,” he gritted out. “Make sure they don't get away. We'll figure something out after...after Uncle Dipper wakes up.”

 

Lucy Ann nodded, pretending not to notice the hitch to Hank's voice, and strode off, yelling orders in a voice three times her size.

 

“C'mon, kids,” Stan said, a suspicious hitch in his own voice, “your Grunkle can't stand up here much longer. Let's get down off this piece of junk already.” (Which they all knew was Stan-speak for “Let's get Dipper off this thing and someplace comfortable, I want him away from these people and that cross before I punch somebody and I'm too damn tired for that.”)

 

Nodding, Henry scooped Dipper up again, now light enough in the Mindscape that any of them could have lifted him even if he wasn't floating yet – which he noticed with some worry, Dipper always floated whether in the Mindscape or not – plus he was a touch small for a twelve year old, and it felt so odd to carry his brother while so small rather than have him riding on his back as an adult.

 

And oh, Henry was hoping Dipper would recover soon, seeing him so weak that he'd been forced to retreat to that form hurt. Most of the time he managed to forget just how...young Dipper and Mabel had been when it all had happened, until something like this rubbed it in his face.

 

Soos stood at the bottom of the stairs, tapping his hands together anxiously. His eyes glanced between the seemingly empty space in Henry's arms and Henry's face, waiting for news.

 

“He's unconscious, but he's a _demon_ ,” Henry said to the unspoken question. “He'll...he has to be alright. He just needs some time.”

 

Almost as if he'd heard Henry and was doing it just to be difficult, Dipper's face scrunched up and he sneezed into Henry's shirt.

 

Henry froze in shock, sinking down to sit on the stairs he'd been making his way down when Dipper had sneezed. He'd never been happier to hear that ridiculous little kitten sneeze in his entire life, relieved enough to not even care about the possible demonic snot on his shirt.

 

Dipper groaned, cracking one eye open for a second before burying his face in Henry's shirt, grumbling something incomprehensible.

 

Soos took one look at the expression on Henry's face (a mix of startlement, shock, and growing joy) and his own face lit up. “Dude, is he waking up?”

 

Henry nodded mutely, clutching the stirring Dipper a little closer. Beaming and shifting from foot to foot, Soos asked, “I'll let everyone know, dude! Oh man, you gave us a scare there little dude,” he added, directing the last comment to the space in Henry's arms.

 

He rushed off. Seconds later Dipper shot upright in Henry's arms, gasping.

 

“I...what...Henry?” Gold on black eyes stared at Henry for a brief second before there were arms around his neck, squeezing tight. “You're okay!”

 

The desperate hug lasted only seconds before Dipper was pulling away, and Henry felt the demon in his lap relax by inches as his bond with Mabel and the triplets let him know they were okay too, eyes darting across the platform to reassure himself that everyone in his family was all right, physically at least, slowly re-assuming his older form as he did.

 

Henry was tempted to tell him to save his energy, but Dipper Pines was stubborn enough Henry knew telling him to would just make him stay older looking to prove he could.

 

If didn't matter, as Dipper slipped back into his younger form with an irritated huff a few seconds later, still too tired to hold the older form despite his pride, and he slumped back into Henry's arms.

 

Mabel's head whipped up from where it had been buried in her Grunkle's shirt as she felt the tugging on the bond between her and her brother, and seconds later she was racing across the platform to throw her arms around brother and husband. Her enthusiasm near knocked them over, but it didn't matter.

 

The next few minutes they took to just hold each other, murmuring reassurances and rocking gently, were an absolute necessity after the last twenty four hours.

 

Dipper's eyes cracked open after those few minutes, and he caught sight of Gideon and Anthony, still held in Kiyo's claws.

 

“ _Y̛̩̘͍̌̋͞o̸̡̠̞̖̯ͥͭͥ͗ͥ̆̒u̹͓̠̠̲͗ͬ͛͗,̬͍̗ͣ̆͗̂ͧ̎̚͟_ ” he hissed, blue fire streaming from his eyes in his rage as he struggled in Henry's arms. “H̵̡̛̗̺̓̈́ͤ̇͗ͥ̋͂̀ȩ̝͕̞͉̹͇ͣ̈́̀̚n̴̛͔̦̪̥̲̬͆̍͊ͧ̿͐͌̒͐r̷̂͗͛̐͊̈̃̃͏̝͖̜̼̖̥y̴̦̮̹̹ͫͧ̃̊̾́,̶̜͈̬̰̐̐̈̓͝ ̡̒͋̔͏̟l̤̼͔̊ͯͦe̶̛͕̗͖̜̣̮̾͛̑́͊͝t̢̘̹̖̒̐ ̵̧̤̙̝̬̻̰͙̠ͭ͆̿̈ͫ́ͨͬ́̚ͅm̬̏ͣ͗̓ͦ͞ȩ͇̮͕͚͈̥̥͙͑̍̏͂̌̚ ̧̳̥̹̳̰͓̙̋̉ͯ͆̆̑̚͜ͅ _g̷̡̙̱͎̩̾ͫ͊ͯ͐̂͂͂̀͡o̧͕̖ͥ̆̍̋͒͜!̝̣̇̌̏͑̒͌̄͢_ ̶̠̙̺̳̬͓̃̍̈T͓̳͍̆ͮͣͪ̉ͨ͒̍̀͠ͅh͚͓̟͓̩̑͗̿ͤͪͤͪ͠e̦͌ͪ͒͋̔ͧ͐͡y̻̼͗̇̈́͞͠ ̡̥̭̀̀̐͊̂͞n̨̢̜͓̥̯͂̇̐ͣ͆̀͞è̬͚̼̻̱̤̲̅ͦ̎ͯ̈́̿̓ͅe̶̪̖̜̜̞͇̟͆ͪd̬̟͔̥̺̊ͮ͆̇ͦ̌̍̀͞ ̴̝͎̟̮̯̪̫̌͗ͥ̌͑̉̆̀t͂҉҉̧̫̜̫̱̬ͅo̡̩͈ͯͭͦͮ̇ͮ͛̓ ͔̲ͤͧ̕ _p͓̯̈́ͩ́͋͛̋͠aͤ͒͑͐̇ͦ̈ͫ͏̧͙̼y_ ̵̜̰̳̹̠͊͒̓ͯ̐͆̓̈́̚fͫ̓͑͊͆͏̜͎o̳ͯ͐ͥ͌ͨͯ̀̂͢͝ŗ̰̗͚̅͊̔̿ͨ̍ͨ ͓͚̜̄̆̎ͥͭ͑́̽̎͝w̵̢͎̪̯͍͊̽h̪̩͚͓̺͍̖ͣ̉ͅa̢̻͈̝͑̇̅̌̃͞t̫̠̳̖̻ͦ͌ͯͮ͠ ̷͍̙̮̺̒̽ͧ̈̾̊͜͡tͪ͆҉̺̤͖̠̖͡h̡̲̪̳͉ͬ̄ͤͤ̓͜͠e͚̤̋̏ͬ̀ͬ̆̂ͫ͐͠y͋̉̆̓ͬ̓̀͏̞̳̘̫͖̩̻ͅ ̶̴ͣ͂̓̎ͦ̐̅̈́͏̙̮͖̯͈̺̩̯̝d͖̼̱̭͕͓͓̭̂ͬ̑ͪ̄ͥ͝i̩̲̼̲̲̯̹̾͘͠ḏ̷̝͗͊͟!”

 

There was a point where Henry would have been unable to keep his grip on Dipper or been startled into letting him go, scared for life or limb if he hung on, but not anymore. Not after all this time of seeing his brother at his best and his worst and not being afraid of him anymore.

 

Not when Dipper was so tired even Henry could feel it, through the bond they shared through the Woodsman, tired enough to still be twelve and unable to escape Henry's arms.

 

“The kids have them,” Henry said softly, arms tightening around Dipper's waist, pulling him back down into his lap. “You need to _rest_. I...damn it, Dipper, we thought you were dead!”

 

Dipper, about to protest against needing rest (despite it being true, being of pure energy or not), deflated as Henry buried his face in Dipper's shoulder, sudden wetness soaking through coat and shirt snapping him out of his rage.

 

“H...henry?” he said softly, startled at the sudden loss of control. Then Mabel squeezed tighter, nearly in Henry's lap herself. She rubbed her cheek against Dipper's free shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt and jacket just as Henry's were.

 

“You really scared us, Dipper,” she said softly, sending an arrow right through Dipper's heart. “Just...they'll wait, okay? I wanna rip 'em apart too but we need a break and the kids need to see you too and...” she paused for a deep, shaky breath, and the last was said so quietly even Dipper was hard pressed to hear it. “I'm so tired of people trying to take my family from me.”

 

Dipper sighed, defeated. How was he supposed to argue with that, much as he'd like to? Plus...he didn't want to admit it, but he was still sore, which was strange to say the least. He hadn't felt sore, in pain, like this, since...well, since before the Transcendence. (The exhaustion he remembered from before he'd set up the answering machine, and occasionally since then, on the bad days, when everyone felt entitled to have a demon show up to their summons.)

 

“...later,” he agreed finally, eyes glowing softly at he glared at Gideon and Anthony over Henry's shoulder again, before closing his eyes, drawing a deep breath as his niblets finally joined them with cries of joy, unashamedly reaching for parents and uncle. “Later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dipper's awake! Yay! He's weak and sore and angry but alive! (ish. As much as he counts in this AU.)
> 
> And yet we still have cultists to deal with and clean up to do. The 'fun' isn't over yet. ;)
> 
> (PS: Dipper's demonic speech says: "You! Henry, let me _go_! They need to _pay_ for what they did!")


	9. Chapter 9

The Pines weren't the only ones who needed rest, as it turned out. After their first burst of cleaning, breaking magic circles and bringing out the dead, the town of Gravity Falls simply shut down.

 

The members of the Dinner Club (and quite a few of those who weren't, technically, part of them but had come to aid anyway) that didn't need as much rest as the others stayed awake to guard the Anti-Transcendence Alliance – its leaders in particular – as everyone else either forced themselves to eat before they collapsed or went to friends and family homes to rest, too tired to eat.

 

The Shack was too far for the Pines to go to, not now, while everything was still unsettled and they could be needed at a moment's notice. They bunked down at Soos and Melody's home instead, in the Rameriz living room, curled around each other as best they could manage with all of them on the king sized air mattress on the floor. (Grunkle Stan claimed the couch, pretending it was because he was too tough to join the cuddle pile instead of being too old and in too much pain, while everyone saw through that and proceeded to haul the air mattress to butt against it, where they could reach him, and he them.)

 

Dipper woke up before the rest of his family, as he didn't need sleep the way they did. Still, he'd been exhausted enough, body, mind, and soul, to need some now, buried under their bodies at the bottom of the cuddle pile (and grateful he was in the Mindscape and didn't need to breathe or it would have been highly uncomfortable).

 

He'd thought his bloodlust would die down after the first rush of blind anger, but lying here, under the heavy, warm, _alive_ weight of his family, it was just as strong and hot as earlier. As much as he'd like to deny it, becoming a demon only strengthened the darkness he'd already had, that Grunkle Stan had warned him about.

 

And right now, he didn't care.

 

Those people tried to take his family from him. They wanted to kill everyone he cared about, destroy their way of life, and enslave his sister. It may have been the demon, may have been the dark streak in him, but...

 

He wanted to see them _suffer._

 

And laying here, instead of cooling off, his mind kept giving him more ways he could make them pay other than the instinctive, impulsive wish to tear them apart, make them bleed, drink their blood and eat their souls, ways that would make them suffer for much, much longer while they lived to know their torment and leave their souls for his taking at their deaths, if they hadn't suffered enough by then, and leaving them seasoned with the pain and hopelessness and despair they'd tried to bring to his home.

 

Problem...apart from Grunkle Stan and Mabel, he wasn't sure if anyone was going to just stand by and let him punish them the way he felt they should be punished...

 

Sprawled across his legs, Willow grumbled and opened bleary eyes to look up at her uncle with a mix of worry and irritation, and he damped down the demonic fury he'd felt rising (that anyone would keep him from punishing the ones that had tried to hurt _his_ family, _his_ town, and oh shit some of the things he'd been thinking were too demonic to dwell on) and gave her an apologetic smile.

 

She patted his leg sleepily (and understandingly – despite everything, some things bred true in the Pines line, and the kids would understand the path his thoughts were taking after the last forty eight hours, after everything they'd been through together, even if they couldn't follow the darkest of the paths he was tempted down) and tightened her grip before settling back down and falling back into a doze.

 

Settling back into his family's embrace, Dipper closed his eyes. He'd think it over, try and decide what he'd do when the time came to take care of Gideon and his cult once and for all.

 

In the meantime, well, they weren't going anywhere. After the last day, a few hours of fear and worry were the least they deserved. Especially Gideon. He'd have to think of something _special_ for Gideon and his friend, beyond what he'd do to the rest of them.

 

As for right now another nap sounded pretty nice at the moment.

 

 

They were woken about an hour later when the Ramirez family began to move about, getting food and otherwise preparing to go face everything else that needed done. They were trying to be quiet, but with so many of them back in the house it was near impossible.

 

Symphony and Flora bent over the back of the couch, Ree barely peeking over the edge as they looked at their honorary grandpa, aunt, uncles, and cousins with open concern. TJ was sitting on the floor nearby, with Osa keeping a close eye on his cousins and younger siblings alike. Old habits died hard, especially after, well, everything.

 

TJ held out the plate he was holding, the slice of infinity pizza waiting on it, while Ford offered up drinks. “Papa says you probably need this,” TJ offered. “Mom's making waffles, too, if you'd rather. Is Tío Dipper gonna be okay?”

 

Hank, who'd been on the top of the pile, glanced back to where his uncle was curled against his mother, both of them tucked in Henry's arms, and was silently grateful for the fact that he and his sisters could see their Uncle all the time, unlike their cousins, who kept glancing at the empty space between Mabel and Henry.

 

“He will be,” Hank said finally, echoing his dad's words as he accepted the pizza. There was something comforting about the infinity pizza, and he took a grateful bite.

 

As if he'd heard them, Dipper stirred, cracking open one sleepy eye for a moment before he snuggled down deeper into the arms holding him, grumbling softly. A few seconds later both eyes flew open, and images flashed by in the wings that had flared open along with his eyes as memories of the past twenty four hours crashed into him.

 

Hank averted his own eyes from the images flashing past in his uncle's wings, grateful it was over in a few seconds. The glimpse he'd gotten had showed it was all scenes from the past day, and he didn't want to see it again. He wasn't sure he could stand to see the parts he'd missed while trying to get into Gravity Falls.

 

Still partially asleep, Dipper tried to shoot into the air, an action born of sudden panic, but was hampered by the arms and bodies draped over him, only managing a few inches before their weight stopped him. Dipper landed back on the floor with a little huff and a thud, inaudible to anyone but his family. He groaned a little and squirmed, the impact waking him up the rest of the way.

 

Dipper squirmed, trying to get out of the impromptu bed, impatient to get on with punishing the cultists but not quite ready to object to all the affection or fight too hard to get away after yesterday...not that he was ever very good at getting away from an affectionate Mabel.

 

Especially not one who was wrapped around him like he was her personal teddy bear.

 

Sighing, he settled back down, giving Acacia the wounded puppy eyes that shouldn't have been effective, demonic as they were, when she laughed at him.

 

Hank smiled at his uncle, feeling so much more hopeful about his recovery after that little performance. Acacia was still openly snickering, snitching the infinite pizza for a bite as she did.

 

Willow, who had still been sleeping sprawled across their uncle's legs, woke up at the jostling.

 

Osa came to join his sisters in leaning over the couch, giving Stan's shoulder a little shake. “You dudes should wake up,” he said, just loud enough to get Henry to crack open his eyes and Mabel to groan, burying her face in a tolerant Dipper's shoulder. “Sorry but it's almost noon. Mom says everyone else is getting up, they're probably gonna come looking for you soon. Better to have eaten first.”

 

Trust Osa to be the practical one.

 

 

Dipper stretched, yawning widely as Henry and Mabel got up, slow and stiff from a few hours on the floor, air mattress or no. He eyed his family as they passed the infinite pizza around, taking the occasional bite himself as it passed between Henry and Mabel.

 

Hey, he may not have had to eat, but he'd had a rough night too, and it _was_ comfort food.

 

Their colors were still unsettled, a riot of anger and fear, indignation and sadness and more, but the sick colors of pain and exhaustion had faded with the few hours of sleep they'd gotten.

 

Most of them had had little in the way of physical wounds, anyway. The worst was Willow's wrists and a few cuts and slashes they'd gotten in the fighting, bandaged as soon as they'd gotten home by Melody and Soos, both of them ever practical about such things after raising seven kids.

 

As satisfied as he could be that his family wasn't suffering at the moment (later, they'd see what this latest misadventure had done to them all in lasting damage), Dipper braced himself to blip back to the town center and found Mabel's hand gripping his wrist.

 

“Where do you think you're going?” she asked quietly, face stern. Dipper faltered, sinking back down to level his face with hers.

 

“Don't even think about going back there without us,” she hissed before he could start talking. “I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but we're doing this _together_. We're all going to be there, so don't even dare trying to go now.”

 

“Mabel, I...” he started, with a glance back at Henry and the kids, Soos and Melody and Abuelita (asleep in her chair, and had been since the instant she landed in it, but then again smacking the stupid out of cultists took a lot out of a grandma no matter how tough), at the Ramirez kids, and Mabel softened enough to pull him into a quick hug.

 

“You're the demon, think of something...something not R-rated. That you can do in front of people,” she said teasingly. She sobered quickly, reaching up to briefly touch her brother's face, briefly flashing back to the unresponsive, muzzled face of yesterday with a flash of fury and thankfulness that he was still here, with them, safe and healing. “We have to do something,” she said softly, glancing over at their family, blood and adopted alike. “We can't let them...no one else,” she finished, looking up at her brother with cold, furious eyes. “They can't do this to anyone else.”

 

“No one else,” he agreed, floating to touch his forehead to hers. “I...have an idea, but I don't think you can really help.”

 

“So long as we're there to see, bro-bro. I trust you.”

 

 

Melody and Soos, with the expertise of many, many years practice, got everyone rounded up and on their way back to the town center – even Abuelita, who had slept on undisturbed by their noise and commotion until nearly the last minute.

 

The platform from last night was in the middle of being dismantled when they got there, and several of Wendy's brothers were taking axes to both the remaining platform and the bits they'd already hacked off, piling them into a giant pile to the cheering of their dads and the rest of the town rooting them on.

 

The cross was off to the side of the pile, and Wendy was enthusiastically taking it to bits and throwing them into the stack, with Candy and Grenda munching popcorn nearby and yelling out suggestions Wendy was cheerfully carrying out.

 

Other folks were setting up tables and bringing out food, and it looked like most of Gravity Falls was gearing up to celebrate their victory.

 

The remaining cultists, meanwhile, were varying stages of wet-your-pants terrified, sulking, and fuming.

 

Gideon was ranting, pacing back and forth with arms flailing in the tiny cage he'd been shoved in, still bloody from its last residents, but there was no sound coming from the cage.

 

Anthony, in a similar cage, was sullenly glaring at everyone, having apparently decided to save his voice – that, or he'd figured out what apparently Gideon hadn't, and realized they couldn't hear him.

 

Henry caught Sheriff Blubs' eye and gave a tilt of his head and jerk of a thumb towards the caged pair, asking without words.

 

Blubs smiled beatifically. “One of the folk that came with Hank got tired of hearing those two keep flapping their lips,” he said, leaning back and lacing his fingers over his stomach. “Put some kind of mumbo jumbo wammy jammy on 'em so they can blather on all they want without botherin' anybody else.”

 

Mabel's smile matched Sheriff Blubs'. “We should have done that ages ago,” she said dreamily. “Is it permanent?”

 

“Unfortunately not,” said Lucy Ann, stomping up to them. “Or it already would be. 'Bout time you woke up. Everybody's getting antsy. I hope you have a plan, or things are gonna get even bloodier around here,” she finished, crossing tiny arms and glaring up at everyone indiscriminately. “And it better be good, or they're going to take care of things themselves. These idiots dug into a lot of sore spots. It's amazing everyone's waited this long, so you'd better have charged up plenty of mojo for something spectacular.”

 

Dipper cleared his throat, floating forward. “I believe I have an idea.”

 

The knowing grin he and Lucy Ann shared had nothing of joy in it – only hunger and many, many teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's not the finale yet - but we're nearly there. Fireworks start next week.  
> Also - in this AU, Soos and Melody have 7 kids, who we met here. From oldest to youngest, they are: Osa Stanford Ramirez, Ford Lee Ramirez, Flora Mabel Ramirez, Symphony (Ree) Maria Ramirez, David Stacey Ramirez, Vierna Matilda Ramirez (Same age as the Triplets), and Thor John (TJ) Ramirez.


	10. Chapter 10

Sheriff Blubs and Durland were surprisingly easy to convince to go along with letting Dipper take care of the cult – technically they should have protested, tried to do things by the book, but to be frank, they didn't have the space in the Gravity Falls jail to keep all the cultists in lock-up (it was mostly just a holding tank for folk to sleep off too much drink, anyway) and taking them in to a bigger city for trial would be...a problem.

 

It was just...more efficient to let the Pines handle it, that was all. Had nothing to do with wanting to get even or all the supernatural creatures wanting it even more and getting antsy about it (and nothing to do with not trusting a human court to help them, to maybe care about the fact that the  _ humans  _ had been attacked but not care that they'd been hurt and killed, that they'd all seen how little some courts counted their lives for. Of course not.) Nothing at all.

 

The Flock, which had been scattered around the square being petted and made much of by near everyone (and terrorizing the caged cultists), turned in near silent unison to watch their master when he drifted away from the family and, alone, started across the square.

 

The background chatter in the square began to die off as Dipper floated toward the cages holding Anthony and Gideon, claws held ready at his sides and power sparking along his fingers, stopping mid conversation as heads turned to watch, leaving silence in Dipper's wake, like ripples in water.

 

He flared his wings as he came to a stop, grin spreading wider than a human was capable of, unable to resist the bit of showmanship when all eyes were on them.

 

Anthony glared at him with gritted teeth while Gideon fumed in rage, face red and shaking with fury, and Dipper's grin grew wider yet. “Li̛sten͜ ́cļơse̕ly ,” he said, and even though he said it quietly, the square was quiet enough it was like a shout. “Yoù an̨d ̢I͜ bot͏h͢ ̢kno͝w͢ ̕y͏ou don'͞t thin̷k͠ ͢y҉o͠u ͢d͠id a̴nyt͠hi̕ng ҉w͢ron̸g.̴ A̡n̢d̷ ther͏e̷'͡s ͜n͢oth̶in̛g Į ͟or a̸nyo̶ne ̕he͏re͞ ͟can do̢ ͜th̡at wi̵ĺl m̴a͏k͜e ̡yo͞u̸ ̷undęrsta̡n̸d. So͘ ͘I'm̴ ͝n̴ot̡ ҉t ̶e̷v̡en͠ g̨oin҉g ̢t̢o ͞try͟.” 

 

Anthony snarled again, and Dipper gave a little nod to Teena, who hovered above the cages. She returned the nod, and all three felt the spell keeping Anthony silent lift.

 

Not Gideon yet, though. He was still too red to do anything but yell and rant. They'd see if Anthony actually had anything of worth to say. Unlikely, but still.

 

“You've no right,” he began.

 

“Ànd̴ ̢ýou ͡h͘a͢d ̡n̢o̧ rígh͡t͟ ̷to a͏́t̕͘t̀ąc̀͘͞ķ̵͘ ͢͝o̶̷̡u̷̡r̡ h̡̨͘҉ó͢m̸̨ȩ̷!” Dipper roared, voice cutting across the sudden uprising of outraged voices, demonic and inhuman. Anthony paled, stepping back the half pace his cage allowed but trying to stand his ground, failing as he gripped at the bars behind him.

 

Apparently, demonic fury (and a close up of double rows of very, very sharp teeth) was actually a bit different when  _ you _ were the one in the cage while the demon, and its family, were free.

 

Then Anthony rallied, and secretly Dipper was a little impressed. Irritated, furious, and wondering why he was bothering, but the tiniest bit impressed.

 

“We have  _ every right _ ,” he snapped. “This world belongs to  _ us _ , and we're the only ones willing to take it back! You've poisoned...”

 

“We͢'ve̴ poi҉s̴on̢ed  _ n͏ot͜ḩi̧ng _ ! ͡It͢'͞s p̶e̸op̡l̕e̴ l̷ik̨e̵ ̀ _ y͡o͡u _ thàt d̕estro͟y̨ ͜e̷v́e͝ryt͟hi͞ng you t̸o̡uc͜h!̕ ” Dipper snarled. He drew back and took a deep breath, almost visibly trying to calm himself. He felt like a bit of porcelain, ready to shatter, and he couldn't. Especially not after near breaking last night, and doubly so in front of  _ these people _ . Later, later when it was just his family, but for now...

 

He  _ would not _ give them the satisfaction.

 

Anthony was trying to speak again but no sound was coming out, and a glance at Teena's face said why. Just as well, much more out of him and someone was going to snap, and Dipper wasn't sure it would be him that reached them first, and what he had planned was going to last much longer than if he just snapped.

 

Snarling, Dipper gestured at the two in front of him and the other cultists, a quick, sweeping motion with a snap at the end, and at the sharp click of fingers they all cried out in pain and anger, hands flying up to grasp at faces as searing, fiery pain scorched them.

 

When hands were finally lowered, each face bore a brand, seared into the skin above each left eye, a brand that glowed blue for a few seconds more as the magic settled into skin and bone and soul, a brand in the shape of Dipper's mark – the winged star with a smaller, upside down star hovering below between its curved wings.

 

Dipper's grin was all teeth and utterly inhuman. “I'm a  _ dream demon _ ,” he said, dropping nearly all of the reverb so he'd be sure they understood every word of what he'd just done to them, each word clear and prescise. “And for the rest of your lives, you will remember this day each time you close your eyes. You will never sleep again without the most brutal of nightmares, and there will never be a reprieve. No dream catcher, no charm or spell will grant you dreamless sleep again. And don't think you can get away from it by killing yourselves,” he added warningly. “You'll live until you die of natural causes, and each time you try to take your life, or someone else does, you'll fail and have to live with the pain of your attempt for the rest of your very, very long lives.”

 

“As for you two,” he said, leaning closer to the pale Anthony and Gideon, moving too fast for the mortal eye to follow and pressing a quick finger against their brands, making them stagger away in pain as it flared with blue fire, “you also have this: for the rest of your lives, no one will ever again believe a singl̡e̕ w̸̕o͏̨r҉d͢ that you say. Lie, truth, it doesn't matter. Mocked and scorned, you will be driven from every place you go. Try getting anyone to follow you _now,_ let alone listen to you,” he finished viciously, adding louder, “You tried to take our sanctuary, and now, none of you will ever have one.”

 

Dipper's grin was savage as the blood drained from Gideon and Anthony's faces, watching them understand just what he'd cursed them with. Neither had believed they could lose, but it was clear to Dipper through the violent colors in Anthony's aura that he'd believed that at worst they'd die as martyrs to the cause, inspiring others to follow in his footsteps and continue his crusade.

 

Gideon, at least, had believed he'd be able to fight or talk his way out of this, never believed he'd get anything worse than more jail should everything impossibly go sour.

 

Dipper floated a little closer to the cage holding Gideon, and this time, his voice was pitched so only Gideon could hear him. “You are never going to threaten my family again,” he said, cold and soft. “You think I'm letting you off easy, but I want you to remember this every time you're driven from a new town, each time someone looks at you with scorn, every night you wake screaming I want you to remember what you did today. And know that there isn't anyone more powerful than I am to take this from you, even if they believed you when you tell them that you were cursed. I want you to remember how you thought I let you off easy when you realize just what I've cursed you to.”

 

The fury in Gideon's eyes was far, far more satisfying than just ripping him apart would have been, tempting as the thought had been all the previous day and night.

 

“And if any of you try to help them,” Dipper added, almost as an afterthought, raising his voice so the rest of the Alliance could hear him, “then you'll wish you hadn't. Remember, I'll be watching,” he said in a near sing-song, tapping the spot above his left eye that mirrored the stars branded on them, and hands were raised to cover the brands as his words sunk in, each star a spot Alcor could watch them through, one they'd never be free of. “Don't bother to try covering them up, either. It won't work,” he added smugly, before floating away from the cages a few steps.

 

He tipped his ever floating hat to the Grand-Anti Transcendence Alliance with a smirk as around them, the whispers started.

 

 

The square started buzzing as soon as Dipper was finished as those close enough to hear Dipper pass his curse on the cultists – and the extra curse on their leaders – passed the word to those who hadn't been at the back of the crowd.

 

The Flock began to bleat quietly among themselves, seemingly taken aback by the lack of blood and souls and pain, before apparently coming to some sort of agreement and scattering among the crowds again, save the few who came near the cages to stare at the cultists (and they may have begun terrorizing the cultists. Just a little. Because they could.).

 

(And because no one hurt their Master.)

 

The noise level in the square grew steadily as the residents and outsiders alike debated Dipper's chosen punishment. It was different, certainly, and there were some who would have rather seen him do something more visible than a brand and a lifetime of night terrors, while more pointed out the justice in it, to take away their safety after hurting everyone here.

 

As the town talked, Dipper drifted backwards until he felt Mabel's hand slip into his. There really wasn't anything that the rest of the town could do – the prison simply wasn't big enough for all the members of the Anti-Transcendence Alliance. And with the way the world still was...no, they didn't want to involve out of town law.

 

Not when it was unlikely they'd get justice from outsiders.

 

Henry's arms came around both their waists from behind, tugging them close. Their hands unlinked just long enough to reach for each other around his back, falling into a familiar and comforting embrace as they watched everyone else from the edge of the town square.

 

Hank squeezed his uncle's arm gently as he passed by, wanting to stay with them but knowing the Dinner Crew needed him as people began to slowly to approve of Dipper's curse and to look towards the food tables they'd been setting up before the Pines and Ramirez families arrived. Much as he didn't like being in charge, he was suited to it, and the townsfolk listened as he went and started talking to them.

 

The rest of the town started to mingle at that point, talking to the outsiders, comparing battle stories and laughing or crying as they split into pairs and groups. The Ramirez family was in the midst of it all in seconds, giving the Pines trio little pats and words of affection as they split off into the crowds, working the very human and mundane magic they'd inherited from both parents.

 

Hank and his sisters waded in after them, Hank taking control of his mafia to help talk to people, more used as they were to violence than some of the town, and to help with the food (something else they were quite good at at this point, with their weekly meetings revolving around it) while Acacia and Willow went to start cheering on the Corduroys and their renewed axe work while Stan sat on a chair near Gideon's cage with Abuelita, the older pair patting the sheep that had come to beg for attention and laughing at Gideon and Anthony.

 

The cultists were otherwise left alone for the moment, groaning or crying or swearing, save for the wary eye some of the older or more experienced kept on them and the Flock that randomly terrorized them gleefully.

 

 

Later, Dipper will have to go and thank the ones who came to help himself. Not quite a debt, but something that needed acknowledgment, even if the part of him that was still demon snarled in displeasure at the thought of doing so. It was a demon thought, the snarl of _you're more powerful then they could ever be, they should be grateful to serve you_ and Dipper hated the thought.

 

It didn't matter. They'd come, and they'd fought for his home, his people, to prevent the Alliance from destroying everything in their mad quest to undo the Transcendence, even he wasn't quite sure why. For that, his thanks were the very least they deserved, and they would have them.

 

For now, though, he was just going to float, holding on to Henry and Mabel, exhausted still, watching his family as they talked and ate and laughed and watching their town rebuild.

 

Out in front of them, the Corduroys had finished chopping, and with their shouted encouragement egging her on Willow set the bonfire made of platform and cross alight, the fires glowing blue until the rest of the wood caught and flared high, the flames still tinged blue, as the townfolk cheered.

 

It brought the first real smile to Dipper's face of the last forty eight hours. Despite the Alliance trying to break them, his town was going to be fine – and even more enthusiastic about the supernatural than before.

 

Then someone broke out the marshmallows and Mabel laughed as she yanked husband and brother towards the flames that reached toward the sky, laughter and friends and family more purifying than anything the Alliance could ever understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've hit the end of _The Scouring!_ It's been quite the ride, and I'm glad for those of who came along with me. Hope everyone enjoyed the ride! :)
> 
> I'm working on a sequel, but thanks to personal current events I'm not sure when it'll be finished. 
> 
> In the meantime, if you want more short stories, to ask questions, or anything else, I can be found on tumblr at phenyxsnest.tumblr.com.


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